Broken Roots: Same As It Never Was
by DrakeAEL
Summary: This is my adaptation of the SAINW sidestory that first appeared in the 2K3 show; it's darker than the original, and it also makes a few references to other stories, either from the TMNT canon or made by me. By the way, this is a long delay; I've finished it months ago, but only now I'm posting it here.
1. Chapter 1

TMNT – Broken Roots

SAME AS IT NEVER WAS

PART I – FAMILY REUNION

Donatello's blood was flowing towards his head, and he was starting to feel a migraine headache, all the while cursing himself-it wasn't like him to be that careless, and much less when he was in his Phantasm persona. Silence was absolute; the only thing that broke it were the faint sounds of drops of water falling into slimy puddles echoing in the distance; but the mutant knew he wasn't alone.

He knew that, lurking somewhere close by, the... thing... studied him. He opened his eyes, to face it, and a ghastly image presented itself to him. Under normal circumstances, he thought, he would have vomited upon seeing such a horrid disfigurement, but instead he simply said: - Hi.

And then he felt as if his eyeballs were being pushed towards his skull, and everything went black.

He woke up with the sound of conversation. He tried to get up, but his muscles were stiff, and his blood cold – well, colder than usual, that is. It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and he soon figured he was inside a partially ruined tunnel, perhaps a subway, and the voices were coming from an illuminated corner around a large fallen block of concrete. He entered ninja mode, to assess the situation; he knew much too well the kinds of power he was fumbling with, but Cartwright's mask didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary there, so he thought it might be humans.

He was right; from the other side of the boulder, he saw a small group of people around a blazing oil gallon, reeking of burning garbage and something remarkably... disturbing. Donnie, too, noticed the band was well-armed with BARs, Uzis, some Molotovs and crude knifes made with scrap metal. They were too many, and didn't look too friendly; Donnie was stepping back to leave, but his reflexes were still numbed from his previous experience, so he didn't feel the soda can behind his foot until it was too late.

\- Who's there? - the voice of the thug was unsettling, way more than that of your average criminal. The others immediately turned their heads to the boulder, and sprang up to their weapons.

A shot of adrenaline rushed through Donnie's body, as he turned and fled while thinking frantically what he should do; fighting wasn't an option, and, since he had no idea where he was, he couldn't make his way to N.Y.'s sewers, the subways, even the river, anywhere but topside. So, distraught, he rushed along the tunnel in the direction where its slope was slightly upwards, hoping he had a better chance to lose his pursuers in the outside.

After running for what seemed like hours, occasionally hearing the sound of a speeding bullet passing by, he saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, and sprinted for it. Not much to his surprise, he saw a couple of guards coming out from the shadows on both sides of the entrance; he bombarded them with flash grenades and crouched before the first shots were fired. After some crawling and a bit of a struggle, he neutralized them hitting their nerve spots, which left them paralyzed long enough for him to reach the grayish exterior.

As soon as he got there, many things happened: first, the rest of the band caught up to him, shouting and swearing; then, two shots hit Donnie on the shoulder from behind, and he tripped, twisting his ankle. He didn't have time to catch his breath, as a battery of firearms followed and hit the band of thugs, making some losses on their ranks, as they fell back hastily towards the tunnel.

For a split-second, Donnie thought of turning back and saying "Thanks" to his mysterious helpers, when he realized he shouldn't be seen, specially considering he didn't have a clue as to what were the intentions of these new characters.  
Anyway, Donnie got up, groaning, with both arms lifted, and slowly turned around, even though the newcomers hadn't said anything at all. However, when the turtle could see the face of one of his saviors, he immediately recognized that they weren't human.

Nor mutant; in fact, even though those things were generally humanoid in shape, wore clothes and held rifles, even Donatello could pass as a regular human being if in comparison. The mutant's heart was about to explode with a new surge of expectation and anxiety rushing through it. All pain was forgotten; the black mask didn't allow any doubts in Donnie's mind, and he knew that his chances of escaping were slim – as well as what the price of failure was.

The wind changed, and now the foul smell of the creatures hit Donatello as a cloud of pestilence, clinging to his overcoat and festering his open wounds, something he tried not to think about. The creatures' clothes had an authoritative look about them, as well as what seemed like paramilitary ranks embroidered to them; one of the things, presumably their leader, raised one icky finger toward the mutant and gurgled something, just before it was hit by a string of shots that came from above.

Donatello looked up quickly towards the place where the fire came from; with all that happened, he hadn't been able to examine his surroundings, which now, under the light of a cloudy day, he saw were ruins of buildings in what used to be N. Y.'s downtown, some of which – like the Goseico HQ – he recognized. It was exactly at the Goseico building he was looking at now: at the first floor, he could see someone hiding behind a window, the tip of a rifle sticking out towards them. Even as Don was looking, another burst came from the window, many of the shots hitting their mark on the rank of ghoulish creatures; the creatures counterattacked, but the window was considerably farther than the tunnel's entrance, and, watching more intently, Donnie could see a small red dot flashing about the thing's chests.

Without a doubt, the sniper could have taken down the ghouls – there were some fifteen or twenty of them – if he would be able to hold his position, but after the third or fourth burst he retreated and didn't show any more signs of being there; Donatello realized that the shooter must have given up and left the area. Slowly, as if nothing had happened at all, the ghouls turned back to Donatello, who had hit the floor as soon as the sniper started shooting. The turtle got up as fast as he could and readied his bo, now concentrating on taking down as many as he could as fast as he would; the sniper fell four or five of them, but the injured ninja turtle was still far outnumbered – and outgunned.

Just then, for his surprise, Donnie saw that the ghouls were again being attacked, this time on their flank, as the characteristic sound of a SMG sprayed around the stunned band from a nearby ruin, from where a shadowy figure leaped after emptying his gun's magazine.

\- Ghost! - a voice as raspy as a bag of glass shards hissed, and others mimicked it, short before the jaw of a ghoul came flying from the impact of a nunchaku, a ninja weapon.

Donatello's heart stopped, when the attacker came closer to the light: he was a pale mutant-a one-armed mutant turtle, whirling around and bashing the ghouls with a single nunchaku.

 _No... it can't be..._

Donatello, however, was aware that both of them were still in danger, and snapped out of it, hitting the nearest ghoul with his staff and using the momentum to spring a small blade from the tip of it. With the effect of the surprise attack and the help of this new mutant, who, despite his mutilation, seemed to be a capable fighter, both of them were able to easily dispatch the rest of the police-ghouls.

After the battle was over, Donnie, exhausted, reclined on his staff, panting; just then, the pale mutant approached; he couldn't see Donatello's face, but asked anyway in a tired voice: - Hey, man, you OK?

Donnie's sweat ran cold; though that mutant's voice was grittier now, even sarcastic, there was no point in denying now. He lifted his head, and stared straight into his eyes: - Mikey?

It was the albino's turn to froze still, at the sound of Donatello's voice. He stared at the masked turtle's face, with glassy eyes. - D-Donnie!? - but his surprise didn't last long; his blank expression quickly turned into an angry mug, and, as fast as he came, he turned his back to his brother and ran off to the ruins.

\- Mike! Mike, wait! - but it was in vain; Michelangelo had reached the ruins by now; he stopped briefly, to turn his head back once more, and resumed his running to a backalley.

\- Dammit! - Donnie knew it would hurt like hell, but he had no choice; so he bit on his bo's strappings and twisted his ankle back to normal, the pain almost blinding him, and, limping, started after his stray brother.

 _Tracking him down, of all people, is gonna be tough, but he doesn't know I can see things other people can't_ – and, as he sprinted forward, Donatello tightened the black mask on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Before Mike's trail went cold, Donnie managed to follow him back to another familiar place – the old subway he and Leo found after he came searching for them, when they were pre-teens. He didn't need a trail, though, to guess where his brother had ran off to. As silently as he could, he followed the old, damp tunnel along the closed shafts on the dusty brickwalls, for the first time since what felt like an eternity. When he came to a shaft with a canvas over the entrance, he slided his hand reminiscently over it, as nostalgic memories of his old laboratory came flooding to him; right next to it, a faint light came from the entrance where he was now walking to.

He hadn't finished passing through the canvas in front of him, when a cold voice greeted him from the inside: - I knew you would follow me here, Donnie. Funny thing, though; you heard what they call me these days: ghost. I guess that's what we may call irony.

Mike was sitting on one of their old improvised stools, staring at an electric lantern on the table, where Donnie could see an Uzi and an AK47 resting along with some empty magazines; apparently, the whiz reasoned, Mike had turned their old place into an armory of sorts, as many guns and ammunition boxes were scattered around or resting on the walls. Donnie had many questions, but the one he asked was: - Mike, why did you run off like that?

\- Why? - Michelangelo slowly got up, showing his left to Donnie, and turned a cold, glacial glare in his brother's direction; Donnie, surprised, saw that Mike looked much like Raph, or maybe even Leo – but he didn't look one bit like the Mike he knew.

But the albino didn't resume his dialogue; he simply picked up the Uzi and started to reload it, and Donnie was amazed how dexterously he could do that with just one hand. Then, the shock came back to him: his _arm_...

Before Donnie could say anything, Mike turned the gun to him and shot three or four rounds, barely above his good shoulder.

\- I don't know why you decided to come back now, Donnie, and I don't care. I'll just tell you this once: stay away from me. Stay away from _us_. You do that, or you will get to see how better my aim can get.

But Donnie could only stare at his brother, in a mix of confusion, fear and surprise: - M-Mike, what did you do that for? What happened, what did I...

Mike didn't let him finish; he clenched his teeth and threw a heavy punch on his face, knocking Donatello back, and used the momentum to rush outside and gain the tunnel. - Follow me and you're dead, ex-bro!

As soon as Donnie recovered his senses, he sprang up and started after his brother, determined not to lose his trail again.

He ran after the albino mutant for about five minutes, when he realized Mike was going to the sewers – where he'd probably have an advantage over him, with his injured arm getting number and number by the minute -; meanwhile, Mike fired a few warning shots in his direction, trying to make the whiz stop following him.

Donnie, though, noticed that, while Mike seemed to look stronger and with more stamina than he remembered, he seemed to have grown a little less agile; both knew very well the sewer's routes, so Donnie managed to eventually catch up with Mike and corner down his brother; he shouted to him: - Michelangelo, stop running and be reasonable! What have I done for you to hate me so much?

Mike was panting heavily; instead of answering, he threw away his gun and picked up his nunchaku, plunging in Donatello's direction; Donatello, however, regardless of being injured, had had katas enough with Mike to be able to predict most of his moves, and plus, he had a few tricks up his sleeve. After a few minutes of blows and parries, Donnie jumped sideways and stared deeply into his brother's eyes. It worked; the mental attack was enough to paralyze the albino, buying him the time he needed to knock the nunchaku from Mike's hand and hit him behind his knee, forcing him to fall down.

Donnie reclined on his staff to help him up, but Mike spat: - I don't need your damn help! - Donnie ignored him, and looked down to his right side; he gently touched the metal cap where Mike's elbow should be connecting to the rest of his arm. - What happened to you, Mike? - But the albino shoved Donnie's hand aside violently. - What do you care for, genius?

\- I do; we're brothers, remember?

\- Remember? I'm the one who's gotta remember? That's rich, coming from the guy who deserted us...

\- ? What...

In the back of his mind, from about the time he saw the Goseico building, Donnie knew he had been sent to the future by the thing that captured him earlier, and that this Mike – taller, stronger and more skilled – was a Mike from the future – not the teen he used to run along with during patrols, and goof around; but the albino's reaction showed Donnie that the Donatello of this alternate reality was actually _himself_ , in a less general way of speaking; he felt that his actions were also somehow his responsibility, and, now, he had to make things right for this Mike and the others. But the words wouldn't come out coherently; yet, he knew, he had to explain to Mike everything.

Donnie gasped for air, and, after calming himself down, started: - Look, I know this is hard to believe, but the truth is that I didn't abandon the team; I was abducted by a monster, and it somehow made me time-travel to the future...

\- *pfft* Yeah, right... I may not be a genius like you, Donnie, but I'm not an idiot, either.

Donatello told him the whole story of how he became the Phantasm-about the lair, about Cartwright, about his journal, about the clothes he was wearing- and, as his explanation progressed, Mike's cynical smirk began to lighten up a little bit.

\- … but then I got distracted, and the thing captured me; it wasn't powerful enough to break my ward, so it must have instead thrown me up to the future; anyway, when I woke up, I was inside a tunnel full of bums, rushed outside, and met those creeps and you there.

Mike was silent for a moment, as if trying to decide if he believed him or not; but his face made it clear that he wasn't very convinced by Donatello's story. Donnie saw that, and desperately, he grabbed his face with both hands and turned it to himself.

\- Mike, take a good long look at me; I don't know how much time had passed, but, do I look like you think I should if I had been around all the time?

Once again, Mike shoved his hands aside. - You are the smart guy; I dunno, you could rig up a cryogenic chamber thingamajig or whatever, and stick yourself inside, program it to open in the future, that sci-fi stuff you did all the time.

\- Why would I want to do that? What's the point?

\- I... I dunno, OK... - Mike turned his head the other way, annoyed, and sighed. – Truth is, Donnie, I really want to believe in you... I really do... but I just can't see how...

At this point, Donatello decided something: it was against protocol, but nevertheless he took off his black mask and wrapped it around over Mike's bandanna, and asked his brother: - Do you see it now?

The albino gasped, and put both hands on his head; he felt his brain would explode at any moment if he kept staring at the strange shadows and angles that things now had, the many subtleties of these details, their infinite complexity... it was too much for him to accept. Donatello, looking how distressed his face was, immediately removed the mask from his face, and stared at him.

\- You... you didn't make it up... - Mike turned to his brother, and, for his own surprise, tears were welling up on his eyes; he stretched out his arm and hugged the whiz. - Donnie... I... we missed you so much, bro...

Donatello tried to comfort him, and answered in a soft voice: - It's OK, Michael, it's cool... but what happened to the others? Where's Leo, Raph, Splinter, April?

Instead of answering, Mike reached for his own face, where the blood from Donnie's wound was clinging. - D-Dude, you're wounded! C'mon, we gotta patch this up quick, before you lose any more blood!

Suddenly, Donatello realized Michelangelo was right; he had forgotten all about the gunshots till now – they had been mostly softened by his shell – but they were open and squirting blood all the way, and he wondered how he managed to pull through all the running and fighting without dying. Now, however, that things were settled, the pain and the fatigue came rushing at once, and he was starting to feel dizzy. - I... you're... right...

\- D-Don't black out on me, man! We gotta treat those wounds, pronto!

Luckily, Donnie went nowhere without his bag, which now he opened and took off it a first-aid kit; he cleaned the wound and patched it up the best he could, assisted by Mike, and, after that, both of them sat down to rest; Mike was silently weeping by Donnie's side. After a while, though, Mike sniffed loudly and cleaned up his nose with the back of his hand. - After you vanished, things started to go downhill; ya know, not only between us, but also to the city, and one thing grew on the other, till we couldn't take it anymore: we split up. Raph and Leo, they're kinda like wanderers now, never settling down in one place; but they're mostly in one piece.

\- What about the others?

The albino got up: - Yeah, that; I think you should go and visit Master Splinter, before seeing the others. Follow me.

And, without waiting for his brother, the albino turned and started his way across the sewers; at one point, he picked up a pack of cigarettes from his belt and lit one. Donnie couldn't help noticing how much Mike looked like Raphael now; trying to break the ice, he asked: - So, uh, when did you start smoking?

\- Since when I started not caring if I'll wake up tomorrow or not.

The temperature dropped a few degrees, and Donnie regretted asking that; a few minutes later, though, Mike pointed to one of the drains leading to the surface and commented: - Huh, remember that place? - Donnie stretched his head and saw that he was referring to the TCRI building – now a crippled, post-apocalyptic ruin. - Brings you way back, doesn't it? Anyway, one good thing that came out from this crap is that nobody else is ever gonna work on that horror show again.

\- What happened? Why is everything destroyed? Where is the people? I hadn't seen a single person out there, except for those creeps we bashed earlier-and they don't qualify much as "people".

\- It's all because of the "Sons of Silence".

\- Who?

\- Yep; the Sons of Silence. - Mike had climbed up a stair and was pulling up a manhole cover as he spoke. - That's what they called themselves in the beginning, anyway; they were a dead-beat, two-bit cult that came around about the time you disappeared. Didn't care much to them, 'cause we were still out looking for you everywhere, but them we tangled with some Dragons that had relations with them in the underworld, ya see, and then we learned some disturbing shit from them: these guys were trying to resurrect the Shredder again, but this time in a creepier way: satanic rituals, human sacrifice, that kinda thing.

"Leo got worried sick; he and Splinter spent hours meditating, trying to figure out what to do, and they decided the threat of the Shredder should be our priority then, before going back to look for you. So, we tracked down some Foot mystics and a coupla those Silence dudes to an abandoned warehouse, to put an end to it, once and for all."

Michelangelo then stopped talking; after some time, Donnie asked: - So? What then?

But his brother's answer was only: - We're almost there; it's just across the street.

Indeed, there was nobody in the open, not even the police-ghouls; and, in front of him, Donnie recognized what once were the Central Park, now a dried-up patch of dying vegetation and patches of scorching, like from explosion blasts. Michelangelo walked him inside a tall bush and they walked for a bit into a dense thicket till he stopped and pointed ahead: - There.

Donnie looked where he was pointing to and the air escaped from his lungs: stuck in the ground there was nothing else than Splinter's old cane. He got closer, to check if he was seeing things straight, but it was his master's cane, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He understood immediately what had happened.

\- Splinter came along to fight the Shredder too, didn't him? - Michelangelo nodded once.

\- And he was...

\- Yeah; we managed to kill the Shredder and burn his damned body again, but Master Splinter was wounded in the battle, while trying to protect me... - the albino then glanced sadly to his stub, in a very meaningful way.

Donnie was trembling, but, despite his horror, he still gathered the strength to ask: - What about April, Casey, Angel, everybody we knew? How many of them died?

But Mike was still staring the metal cap that protected his severed limb from exposure.

\- Dammit, Mikey-

\- Casey is dead. - he sighed deeply. - Angel, too; after that, Raph started to drink more and more; for years, he couldn't spend a single day sober. But they didn't die fighting against the Foot; no, man, even Karai got wasted eventually, by the Silents. We learned later that the Shredder was actually a decoy; 'cause, as the days passed, the Silents got more and more political power, converting people into fanatics, and doing all kinds of fucked up things openly; me and the guys were broken, we hadn't the strength to face 'em, and when things escalated to full-blown war, our friends tried to nail the bastards down, but, as you can see, that didn't work very well.

"Those few that survived now live as small bands of scavengers-like the punks you met earlier-or have joined the Resistance. April is one of 'em; Leo and Raph do whatever they want, but they too show up to help."

\- Resistance? Against who, those ghouls we saw?

\- Against the System, man, the System of Silence; everything is run by the Silents, and the only thing they seem to want is death and suffering. They, the Resistance, have tried many times to break in the Silents' HQ, but each attack always ended up with massive losses. Well, that's that, bro; now you can sit down and enjoy the view. - the albino lied down, and lit another smoke; Donatello sat down too, thinking.

Suddenly, he said, his voice very firm: - Mikey, I'm gonna make things straight, for you guys; for Master Splinter, Casey, everybody.

The albino sat up and put his hand on his shoulder: - Donnie, I know you're a smart guy and all, but you don't know these guys, they're fuckin' nuts; if the Resistance never managed to put a dent on those bastards using tanks and crap, what difference can you possibly make?

\- Don't worry; I've got a good idea where to start. - the whiz said mysteriously. - First, though, we gotta find Raph and Leo: we'll need the whole team for this.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike and Donnie were headed to one of the Resistance's many bases that were scattered across the city; the one they were going to was, surprisingly, an old military base, shown in plain sight and fortified with lots of barbed wire, concrete walls and mounted machine guns. Mike seemed to know his way around: he told the sentinel in the gate a password, and, after they got clearance, both of them were escorted by two armed soldiers to a lab deep inside the facility. One of the soldiers that came along pressed the button on an intercom and said: - Miss O'Neil, it's those mutant friends of yours. - A voice full of static replied an OK, and then the metallic door went up for them to pass. One of the soldiers stationed himself at the side of the door, while the other went back the corridor to see to her other duties.

Behind a large table filled with robotic arms and pieces of electronics was a woman wearing a welder's mask, as she finished soldering two metal plates together, before she took it off, showing an elderly, tired and greasy face to both turtles that Donnie barely recognized, and addressed Michelangelo, the closest one: - Hey, Mikey, it's been a while. And...

Only then she noticed Donnie behind the albino; she raised an eyebrow, before asking: - Uh, Mike, who is your friend? New mutant in town? Omigosh, are you wounded?

But Donnie spoke before her friend could walk around the table: - April... - he humbly took off his hat and the black mask, and said: - It's me: Donatello.

April said nothing, but stopped midway to put a dirty hand over her mouth, before resuming her walk and hugging the whiz tightly. - Donnie... after all these years... you're still alive...

Donnie could feel that she was crying, and then he couldn't help but cry, too. The turtles never talked about that, but they grew to see April as a mother they never had; seeing her like that, tired, working alone in a badly illuminated workshop filled with trash, was enough to break Donnie's heart. If that wasn't enough, it also haunted him the thought of what this old lady had lost-of what they had lost. A testimony of its impact is that she didn't ask Donnie for reasons, why he had never come back; she was just glad he was here, now.

After a few moments, they mopped their faces, and then April, half-smiling, asked: - So, what brings you here, champ? Have finally decided to join the Resistance? We sure need someone like you around here, as you can see... - she waved her hands around, indicating lots of unfinished robotic husks and broken machinery.

\- Actually, April – Mike intervened –, we came to ask if you have seen the twins lately.

The smile on her face, against her will, disappeared. - Well, they aren't at the base right now, but I can contact them anytime.

\- Nice; so, uh, could you call 'em and tell 'em to come here ASAP? I... uh, we need to talk.

\- Of course, sure; but that wound, shouldn't you let a doctor take a look at it? I can see you guys have gone through something intense recently; you should take it easy and call it a day. Leave that for tomorrow.

\- Good idea, April; we'd better catch some Zs before the grand pow-wow; c'mon, Donnie, let's go to the doc and then we'll settle down in the dorms.  
\- Huh, do you mind going ahead, Mike? I can show Donnie around after we treat his wound, and, well, we've got a lot of catching up to do...

\- Oh... I see. Well, Donnie, I'll see ya later.

He then left through the door he came in, feeling tiresome. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could, because he knew they would go over again that stuff he and Donnie had talked about earlier... stuff he rather not go through again...

The following morning, Donnie woke up feeling a bit numb from the anesthetics, but overall, he felt reinvigorated; after a modest breakfast, he followed the corridors to the meeting room where he and Mike were supposed to see Raph and Leo. Their presence seemed rather familiar there; the people he passed through didn't as much as turn their heads to him, except to give him directions, so he had no problem finding the place.

The door was closed, but he could hear shouts coming from the inside, and he stopped on his tracks. He recognized the voice at once: Raphael. Mike and April were trying to make him calm down, but Raph wouldn't shut up, and Donnie noticed why-now he also heard Leo's voice, lower than that of his twin, but without a doubt they were arguing about something-about him, perhaps?

The whiz knocked lightly on the door; everybody inside went quiet. He saw the door open, and the shape of Mike appear in front of him, his face dark and tired; then, the albino turned and said: - Guys, this is the reason we wanted you to come here together – he then turned aside and gently pushed his brother by the shoulder through the opening. - Donnie's back.  
Donnie took a good look inside: April was sitting at a table, looking at them with an worried face; next to her, Leo and Raph were standing up, both staring at him, Raph, in particular, with his mouth open.

Donatello examined his brothers and saw, appalled, that Raph too was mutilated: he was missing an eye, which he half-hid with a patch he sewed on his red mask. As for Leo, he seemed to be fine, but he was wearing a strange pair of shades that made him wonder...

Anyway, he took a small step towards them, and timidly started: - Brothe-

But before he could finish his sentence, Raph, without a single word of warning, threw a heavy punch on his face, so heavy that it knocked out a tooth from Donnie's mouth; Leo, who was a little farther from the whiz, stepped up to hold Raph back with one hand, but, instead of helping Donnie up, he unsheathed a sword and pointed it to his fallen brother's throat.

\- Stop! - April's voice came between the brothers. - Jack, for the last time, calm yourself down, and Arthur, put that sword away this instant. - the twins hesitated, but did as she said; Raph pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his arms and looking directly at Donnie, who was being helped up by Mike.

\- April, wot the fuck is _he_ doin' here?

\- Jack, he is your brother-you shouldn't treat him like that!

\- Who, him? This damn traitor ain't no bro of mine.

\- Look, just give him a chance to explain himself; after all, you can't possibly blame him for everything that has happened to you in the past twenty-three years!

Raph was angrily biting his lip, or whatever he had for a lip; but he didn't move an inch to get up. Behind him, he heard Leo's voice: - She's right, Jacob; we should give Turvak a chance to explain himself...

 _Jacob, Turvak; he never called us like that..._

\- Nobody asked you shit, Art; if I stay ta hear the bullshit he's gonna say it's 'cause April asked, not you...

\- So be it, as long as you listen...

After Donnie washed his mouth and dressed his wound, he sat down and told them the story he had said the previous day to Mike; only this time, the twins seemed to be taking Donnie's story seriously, especially Raph, after he was shown the black mask; neither of them wanted to try it on, as Mike suggested, but both seemed to believe Donatello's story-or, at least, they were willing to listen to it. However, they had their doubts.

\- So, how does this 'alternate universe' thing work? Are you really my genius brother from the past, or what?

Donatello sighed deeply. - Look, it's complicated, but I'll give you my opinion on the matter... You see, we live in a multiverse, full of universes that are independent of each other, separated by nothing, nada-or at least that should be. Because, every now and then, a bit of stuff 'leaks' from these worlds, and ends up mixing with the nothing, kinda contaminating it; and, if that 'contaminated nothing' somehow becomes sentient, it might want to interfere with one or more universes of its own-that's what we call an Ancient One. The Ancient Ones need to be put on check, otherwise chaos and madness will end up eating away afflicted worlds, like a slow-spreading disease; that's when the Phantasm, and others like him, come into play.  
\- Worlds? What kinda worlds? Like, Dimension X?

\- Yeah; but also alternate histories-actually, all worlds in the multiverse are really linked as alternate futures from some common past. Remember Renet, and the way she used to push us around all of spacetime? Well, I gave some thought to it, and I think what her scepter actually does is to make some kind of bridge between the worlds of the multiverse, rather than to our real real past; doing that would simply violate causality.

\- Sorry to interrupt, Turvak, but if what you say is the truth, then what does that make you to us? Are you really our long-lost brother, or just an alternate copy of him?

The whiz hesitated; after a few moments of tense silence, he answered his brother: - … I don't know. But, given the circumstances of what happened to me earlier today – or yesterday, whatever – , I think that the Ancient One that trapped me threw me into this alternate future and somehow _fused_ me with its native Donatello, even though I know this sounds absurd. If that is so, then, you could say I am your real brother, yes.

The older turtles and April were exchanging glances; finally, Raph got up from his chair and mumbled an apology for knocking his tooth, while giving him a quick hug, a half-smile playing on his face. Leo, however, kept his distance and only said he believed his brother, because he saw no reason not to.

April had been silent up to that point, when she then finally said: - Well, since that is taken care of, I think you four can finally settle down as a family again; there is no reason to keep up with this grudge of yours.

\- Not in this life. Not without Splinter – Raph spat.

\- Besides, the System still controls everything; Turvak's return doesn't change that.

\- But at least it could change that rotten attitude of yours, Leonardo – April said, making Leo's brow furrow –; yes, it's true-things will never again be the way they were, and we have to live with that; but that doesn't mean we should simply give up; we have to move on. I'm sure that if Casey were here – she paused for a moment, before continuing –, I'm sure he would say the same thing.

Everybody kept quiet, staring down at the floor; then, Donatello's voice was heard: - I have a plan, to put the Silents away for good.

\- Ha, and there he goes – Raph reclined himself on his chair, staring at the ceiling –; took 'im long enuff...

\- I do; I'm the Phantasm, am I not? So, I've got info that you don't have-info from a supernatural source; if we are to succeed in launching an attack at the heart of the System, though, I'll need to gather more data on the current situation of Manhattan.

\- You have access to all the data I've got on my computers, back in the lab.

\- Thanks, April, but this data I need to collect is the kind I need to go on a field trip to gather, if you know what I mean.

\- Well, I won't say I do.

\- Yeah; lemme try to show you guys something, first. Is that cable linked to the base's network? - he pointed to a cable sticking out from the wall opposite the table, next to a big plasma screen; April nodded, while Donnie picked up his palmtop from the bag and connected it to the system. After he typed some commands on his palmtop, a map of Manhattan appeared on the screen, with a dozen or so red spots flashing on it.

\- OK, this is-

But before he could start his explanation, someone knocked on the door and entered. - Excuse me-sorry I'm late, I had to attend a meeting with the other officials...


	4. Chapter 4

April immediately jumped off her chair, both hands resting on the table; but the others didn't seem to mind the intrusion of the young woman in camouflaged clothes standing next to the door, which she was closing behind her. The woman, then, turned to look at the others, and seemed surprised to see Donnie there. She walked closer to him: - Uhm, excuse me, but, do I know you?

\- I dunno; but, this is weird, you do look kinda familiar...

April walked in: - Donnie, this is Miwa; she is the commander of this base. Miwa, this is Donnie.

The whiz gasped for air: - Miwa?! You mean, this lady is Hamato Yoshi's daughter!? But-but she... just then she was a little kid!

His brothers said nothing, but changed meaningful glances, and Mike was grinning widely. Miwa, on her side, still had a intrigued expression on her face, as if she tried to remember something. - Donnie? Don... Donatello? Uncle Donatello? - she turned her head to April and was asking her; the older woman nodded slowly. Miwa, then, turned back to Donatello, feeling a little awkward at first; since she was very young the last time she saw him, she couldn't remember much about the whiz, specially because they really never had much contact. Nevertheless, she controlled her nervousness, and politely bowed to him. - It's good to see you again, Unc-uh, Donatello-san; after all these years, you have finally decided to join our ranks? If so, you're welcome to stay; we always welcome new recruits for the cause.

\- Mi – Raph interrupted, while puffing clouds of smoke over the room –, if ya want some background on 'im, you won't believe it. His story is a heck of a brainfuck; still trying ta wrap mine around it...

The young woman was stern, and calm, when she spoke: - Well, you can brief me later on that; but for now, I couldn't help but hear from the outside that you had some kind of plan you wished to discuss-about the Silents?

\- Y-yeah; right; *cough* so – he turned back to the screen, and pointed to the flashing dots on there. - I have rigged up a program that can roughly pinpoint certain electromagnetic disturbances most likely associated with severe anomalies in the spacetime manifold...

Leo coughed in a polite manner. - Turvak, would you indulge us by making your exposition a bit less technical?

\- Yeah, brainiac, dumb down a lil', will'ya?

\- *sigh* Oh... uh... well, it means that the flashing dots are places where the Silents are most likely to be.

\- Hey, he's right – Miwa pointed to a flashing dot at the center of the screen –, that's the Silents' HQ, right over there, where the Trade Center used to be; I see two or three of their forts and supply storages, too...

\- Exactly; however, before we can make our plans and strike the enemy, we need to do some further research on these spots.

\- Research? What kind of research?

\- If we are to succeed in destroying the System for good, we have to discover which of these is the Ancient One's hideout, and strike there with all our forces.

\- Donnie, wait a moment; you mean, like, the same kinda thing that brought you here is also behind the Sons of Silence? - Mike asked, and Donnie nodded, very seriously. - I'm pretty much positive about that.

Miwa looked confused at the mention of an "Ancient One"; she raised an eyebrow and turned to Raph, who simply commented: - Brainfuck... toldja.

\- But, even if you manage to find it, Donnie, what are you going to do next?

The whiz turned to April and Miwa: - Do you guys have enriched uranium or plutonium here?

This question startled both women; April spoke first: - N-No, of course not; though, if it really comes down to this, you can probably find some at one of the military bases taken by the Silents.

\- Good; 'cuz that's exactly what we are going to do. I'll also need to make a quick trip to my old lab and Leatherhead's place- by the way, is she...

\- She's fine; old, but fine. She is one of us; if you have something to speak with her, you can find her working on the armory, in the underground...

\- 'Kay, 'kay, 'nuff wit' that – Raph was impatiently picking his teeth with a splinter as he walked over to where Donnie was - It's all nice and dandy, brilliant mind, but ya still didn't say why I'm here.

Donatello turned to face his brothers as a whole: - That's 'cuz I need your help, guys. The research I mentioned, is not something mundane like our old patrols; it requires some... methods to make you able to recognize this particular place I'm looking for, and I can trust these only to you. It's like this: we'll split up and search the city, until one of us detects the spot; then we gather back here in this war room, and I'll tell you our attack plan and what our chances are.

\- I like simple things; but waltzin' 'round all those places – Raph pointed to the screen –, swarming wit' ghouls, I don't know, man, doesn't sound simple, even for a ninja master like yours truly.

\- Well, if you feel you are not up to the task, Jacob, my men can easily handle this survey.

\- Your... men? - Donatello asked curiously, wondering who the mutant ninja turtle's subordinates could possibly be.

\- Oh yeah, he don't know 'bout that yet... - Raph was grinning maliciously, as he made a mocking reverence to his twin –; brainiac, meet none other than Shredder Jr., proud leader of the Foot Clan-of what's left of it, anyway.

Donnie's head was spinning. - You... you're leader of the Foot?!

Leo lowered his glasses enough so he could stare Donatello straight in his eyes; for the first time, Donnie could take a closer look on his eyes, and the glassy, milky look of his pupils immediately suggested a condition to him: cataract. Leo was half-blind. - Time changes all, brother; we must change as well, lest we are carried away by the flow.

\- Nicely said; spoken like a true master. - the contempt on Raph's voice was crystal clear.

Leonardo didn't deign to reply, but the stare he gave his twin brother would be able to peel paint off a wall; Donnie broke the tension.

\- Well, I guess by now it isn't in the Foot's best interests to betray us to the Silents, so it might work out, after all; but, I don't know if they'll be up to the task...

\- I've trained these ninja myself; and for the mission, I'll choose only the best of the best. You don't have to worry about them, Turvak.

Then, Michelangelo stepped up and put a friendly hand on Donnie's shoulder, and, for the surprise of all gathered in the room, he was smiling widely, like he used to, aeons before, when he was a care-free teenager. - Well, that takes care of that, dude; but, if ya really mean to go back to the lair, I think someone oughtta tag along-ya know, to cover yer shell; don't you guys think so?

Leonardo was still like an oak; Raph, on his side, grumbled something and walked over, stopping shoulder to shoulder with Donnie. - Yeah, good notion, Mike; ya can tag along wit' fearless and see that his ninja boys don't screw things up. I'll show Donnie here to the ol' crib.

April interrupted: - Donnie, if you really think we need to get our hands on radioactive material, I think it would be a good idea if some of you would come along to help us retrieve it. So, Mikey, Leo, what do you say?

Leo's response was a dull "Fine by me"; but Mike sighed heavily, turned quickly to look at his brother, and said: - Yeah, cool.

Then April turned to the base commander. – Miwa?

Up to that point, the young lady listened, with her arms crossed on her chest; now, though, she looked up and said: - I don't understand much of what is going on here, and I don't care a single bit about working directly with the Foot; Donatello, is this going to be strictly stealth?

\- Yeah, that's the plan; we're not going out for an attack, at least not now.

Miwa got up and started to pace around with her hands behind her waist; she got wrinkles of worry stretching over her face, which made her look as old and tired as April did. Finally, she turned and faced the whiz: - Look, Donatello, I don't really remember much about you, back in the day, but one thing my uncles used to say to me, a long, long time ago-she glanced meaningfully to the others as she said that-, when they felt like talking about you, was that you could probably solve any kind of problem given the proper tools and enough time; that, combined with the fact that lately we hadn't had much success in our strife against the System, are the only reasons I am saying what I'm saying now: you have Base Alpha-Kappa's full support as regards supplies, lodging, transportation-though, I cannot compromise the little manpower we have available; I hope you understand.

\- Yes, I do; thank you, Miwa, for believing me, even if I'm little more than a stranger to you.

She gave him a quick smile, and coughed. - Very well, then; you'll leave at seven. April has got her job in the workshop and I have other things to see, so we won't be able to go with you.

Raph nodded his head and tapped Donnie's shoulder, as he turned to leave. - You heard the boss; seven. See ya at five, on the dojo. Don't be late. - and, before Donnie could ask him if he wanted to dinner and settle on the same lodging he and Mike were, he quickly left.

\- If you'll excuse me, I need to contact my men – and then, like Raph did, Leo left without a further word, or turning back.

Mike looked tired, as he put his hand again on Donnie's shoulder; he looked over to the women in the room, as April sighed, understandingly. - Look, uh, I think Donnie wants to go check on Leatherhead now; I'll show him the way. See ya later, dudettes.

He closed the door, and right after that both him and his brother were walking down the corridor to the east wing of the complex.

\- Man, that was pretty intense back there.

\- Tell me about it, bro. *sigh* Ever since you disappeared, and Splinter... is gone... those two were never the same, again.

\- Neither you?

The albino shook his head. - No, man, neither me. But the thing I regret most is that, things turned out this way probably because of me.

\- You? Mike, don't be so harsh on yourself. I'm the one who vanished without a word, remember?

\- But it wasn't your fault. Say, did you notice their eyes? What happened to them?

Donnie nodded. - *sigh* Well, the day I lost my arm, and Splinter... you know... well, when we came back, after burning Shredder and burying sensei, after we got home, I went to my room and cried like a baby, cried till I passed out, from all the pain; when I woke up, I heard noises coming from your lab, and went there to check it out. I could hear they arguing, and, when I got close enough, I heard the sound of metal hitting on metal. Then I entered the lab: Raph and Leo were fighting, blowing some steam, but when I came in Raph got distracted and Leo carved out his right eye clean off. Raph fell down and screamed his lungs out in pain, blood all around the floor, and Leo, shocked, dropped his ninjato and tried to help him. But, man, Raph was pissed – I never saw him angry like that before –, and, when Leo was over him, he reached for a glass of your happo and smashed it into his face, rubbing the shards on his eyes. Then, they both cooled down, and separated; Raph looked over to me, and said: 'Mike, *gah*, Mike, man, it hurts, it hurts like hell...'; Leo said 'Mike, Mike, I-I can't see... h-help...". Yeah, that's what they said. And, Donnie, do you know what I did?

Donatello was silent as a tombstone. Mike continued: - I ran away. Yeah; I fucking ran away from my brothers. I went to April's, and stood there for a coupla weeks or so, and never heard from them again, till a few months later. Since that day, they've hated me and hated each other, and they can't stand to be put together in the same place. In the beginning, they would fight on sight, but in time they mellowed down a bit, and their presence now is almost bearable. Almost.

Donatello looked up to his brother with pity, really sorry for how badly things had turned for them all; this only helped to strengthen his resolve and his faith in his plan: failure was not an option. He tapped on the albino's shoulder, trying to look as confident as possible. - You know, Mike, this attitude doesn't fit you at all; and besides, if you think you've reached rock bottom, then I got good news for you: there's only one way to go, and that way is up.

Michelangelo smirked half-heartedly. - Y'a know, Donnie, if we get outta this shit alive, you should consider making a livin' writing birthday cards, you got a gift. But, seriously, thanks for trying to cheer me up, baby brother. - he light-heartedly made a noogie on his brother, who said, feigning indignation: - Hey, where did that 'baby brother' stuff come from?- Mike laughed briefly and said: - You're like, what, twenty and ancient, are you not? I'm forty and decrepit; but still, I'm older than you. That makes me the boss of you; who said dreams don't come true?


	5. Chapter 5

As he walked down the corridors of the base to meet Raphael in the dojo, Donatello was going through his meeting with Leatherhead earlier that day, while she was helping fix a damaged tank. She looked tired and showed many signs of old age, and also, like everyone else, was more cynical than usual, but nevertheless, she seemed truly happy to see him there.

\- So, look who came back from the dead. - she put down the heavy metal plate she was handling and turned to Mike and Donnie. - Donatello! My, you haven't changed a bit! I have to say, I'm feeling a bit jealous.

\- It's good to see you're doing fine, Leatherhead; but, given the circumstances, I thought you'd be with the Utrom by now...

The albino gator turned her large head away, and them replied, almost in a whisper: - The Utrom are no more; they all perished.

An electrical bolt ran through Donnie's body when he heard that; the gator continued. - Yeah, I never thought it possible myself, but it happened. After you left, all sorts of things happened: for one, I was captured by a separatist sect of Utroms who wished to clone me and make a mutant army to put against the Empire, but Michelangelo here and his allies managed to rescue me from their clutches.

"But if the separatists were done for, we couldn't know; after fleeing their hidden base, we thought we had finished them for good, but then I was never again able to contact the Utroms-communication lines, Transmat servers-all went mysteriously dead. Even the Fugitoid went to their planet seeking answers, but, after he got there, I never heard of him again. So my guess is that either the Utrom were wiped out by some disease or alien invasion, or they cut off any communications with Earth and isolated us. Either way, we're all by ourselves."

The Utroms disappearance was shocking-nevertheless, Donnie had a mission to accomplish. - … Speaking of the Transmat, that's exactly why I came here; Leatherhead, you still have the prints for your old Transmat prototype?

\- … I guess so... but what you need those for? I already told you that the servers are down...

\- Yeah, but there's still something we can use those plans for... even though it would be better to have the Transmat full-functional...

\- Hmm... you're talking about the Instamat, aren't you?

\- Yeah... me and my brothers, we're going in a mission, a very risky mission, and I need to give 'em at least some hope that it won't be a suicidal...

Leatherhead didn't say anything; she stood there with her arms crossed, for a while, before she went to a locker nearby, pulled out a few sheets of paper from it, and handed them over to Donatello.

\- Thanks...

Mike and Donnie stayed for a while longer talking with her; but Donnie snapped out of it, as soon as he was aware of Raph's face staring at him from across the door to the dojo. - Yer late.

Donatello glanced at a clock in the wall. - Yeah, like, thirty seconds.

\- Doesn't matter; yer late, anyway. - he threw a kicking pad at him, and walked in. - Well, lesee if your trainin' is as lousy as your timing, lil' bro.

Almost immediately, Raph started to hurl blow after blow on the pad Donnie was holding; it was obvious to the whiz that now his brother was stronger than ever, as he could barely stand his ground after each blow.

They didn't talk, but they needn't to, anyway. Donnie knew Raph very well: he was the kind of guy that preferred action to words, and this is how he did his talk. The whiz immediately understood what he was trying to do: he was trying to intimidate him, to show how much he had got stronger, during the time he went missing; it was his way of saying "I don't need you", to reassure himself. But Donnie knew better: he had never in his life been scared of Raph, and he wouldn't start now: he did his best to sustain the heavy blows and deal some of his own-to not show him weakness.

After that was over, Raph massaged one of his wrists, saying: - Ya ain't half bad... but ya ain't half good, either.

\- *huff-puff* Uh... thank you... *huff-puff* Raph...

The red-masked turtle looked up to the clock hanging on the wall, and said: - It's almost seven; time to get goin'.

Donatello nodded and followed him outside; like during the training, most of the way they kept an awkward silence between them; Donnie felt he should say something, or he'd gone mad.

\- Raph?

\- Hh?

\- Is it OK for you? You know, going back to the lair-after all this time?

\- Hey, yer goin', arentcha? I couldn't live wit' myself knowin' I got less guts than the nerd of the team; 'sides, after thet training, I see ya gonna need all the help ya can have.

\- … You know, you don't need to be like that all the time; I told you, I didn't leave because I wanted to.

\- That's what you say, bro – and he turned to give his brother the eye. - That may be true, for all I know. I remember those times I saw you wearin' that mask. 'Yer gonna rob a bank, or sumthin'?' Huh. At the time, I thought you had some kinda freaky fetish thing goin'; but, of all the turtles of the Fantastic Four, I'd never figger Donnie-boy would be the one playing Batman on his free hours. Somehow, playin' vigilante with Casey doesn't sound as cool as it used to, know wot I'm sayin'?

Donnie didn't know what to say, so he just nodded; they walked to the room where the Foot soldiers Leonardo had chosen were waiting for Donnie's instructions, which were brief, as he taught them a couple of spells and gave them some wards written on pieces of paper, and, after a few minutes, they were outside the base, on their way to the sewers.

Mike had a migraine headache; he was gulping down some coffee-which he hated-to see if it got any better. April was sitting by his side, in the cafeteria.

\- 's pretty neat, huh? - for the hundredth time, he flexed the mechanical fingers, feeling its hydraulics, still trying to convince himself that it wasn't the ghost-limb sensation he felt from time to time; it was the real thing. - Now, what should I call myself? RoboTurtle(C)? Cyberninja(C)? Oh, wait, I think I should be Cyber-Ghost(C), sounds like so badass...

April said nothing, but she smiled; she and Leatherhead had made the prototype for the mechanical arm Michelangelo was now using a long time before, but there were still a few details about mutant turtle anatomy and neural circuit integration they hadn't figured out, as they discovered after the disaster that followed their first attempt to connect it to the albino. Now that Donatello was back, however, they managed to trim the interface up and successfully install it with his help. April was beaming: it felt like ages since she and Mike had such idle conversation.

\- Science fiction come true; now we just have to hope it won't try to choke you or pluck your eyes out...

\- Gee, thanks a lot for reminding me of that! (Uh, I wonder if it's too late to have this thing removed...)

The woman giggled, and sighed, as if relieved. - It's amazing, isn't it? A true miracle...

\- You mean Donnie? Yeah, I guess so...

April turned to him, raising an eyebrow. - You don't sound so excited about it, yourself.

\- Believe me, April, I really am; is just that, the thought I'll have to spend the whole night with Leo, I dunno, I think it's finally catchin' up to me.

April sighed. - Look, Mike, you shouldn't be so hard on Leo; you know he was the one who took things harder-first Donnie, then Splinter, Raph, you-the world was falling apart around him; and all along, he was the leader. He felt like a failure.

\- We all did; damn, I still feel like a failure. But now, with Donnie here... *phew* dunno, it's so surreal, man...

\- There, you see? And I'll bet Leo and Raph feel just the same way; you know, they may look tough, but inside those thick shells of theirs they're as soft and jiggly as the teenagers I used to know...

\- Heh... thanks, April, but, ya know, all turtles are soft in the inside; but Leo's insides, they'd gotta be runny and gooey: I pity the poor bastard who ever makes soup of him...

\- Excuse me – Leo's voice came from behind them; they turned, and saw him holding a half-eaten bread. - It's almost seven; time for us to get going.


	6. Chapter 6

Donnie and Raph were silently sneaking past the sewers corridors on their way to their old lair. Donatello didn't need to ask Raphael about the condition of the area-they both could feel it, an aura of impending doom, much worse than when they used to live there; something was terribly amiss.

\- Raph, do you feel like we're being watched?

\- All the time, bro; all the time.

\- Any idea on what it could be?

\- … Ha'ntaan.

\- Ha'n-who?

\- A.k.a. the Rat King; since we split from the lair, he came out and claimed all these parts of the sewer for himself. I've heard that he's bonkers; calls himself Ha'ntaan the Rat King, and they say he's some kinda monster that can control rats. But I-we-saw the bones of the original in that abandoned tower, where Splinter told they were. That was the last I saw of him; if Ha'ntaan and that Rat King are the same thing, though, I can't tell, and I'd rather not.

Suddenly, they heard a noise: the echo of a drop of water, somewhere deep into the shadows. Raphael just commented: - Tread lightly.

They sneaked past the labyrinth of tunnels and galleries. The red-masked turtle was dumbfounded: he thought he could find that old place, so full of memories, even blindfolded, but the truth was that he'd be lost, if it weren't for Donnie, who could see the way using the black mask and other crafts passed down to him through Cartwright's journal.

\- Man, what happened to this place? Is nothin' like I remember it...

\- This is the Ancient One's work; you know, this particular place has always been quite vulnerable to suffer something like this.

\- No shittin'; and we _moved_ here? What were you thinkin'? Ya shoulda told us!

\- Hey, don't blame this on me; as I remember it, you were also very excited when I found the secret switch behind the pipework.

\- Yeah, but I'd never dreamed we had such lousy neighborhood; I'd rather take my chances wit' the shafts...

\- Look, stop complaining and try to be a little more useful... like, check if we're not being... - Donnie didn't finish his sentence; he heard a small squeak, and, when he looked down, he saw a rat as big as his hand staring calmly at him, with big, bulbous blood-red eyes. - … followed.

Just then, the rat made a loud shriek, followed by a rumble behind them; they instinctively turned around and, to their horror, saw a writhing mass of rodents flow down the corridor, like a tidal wave, in their direction. But this wasn't the scariest part; because, from the mass of rats, a humanoid shape took form, showing its sharp teeth to the turtles, its red eyes staring at them, as it said in a deep, cavernous voice: - Intruders! Ha'ntaan shall feast on your entrails!

Raphael took off his sais and was about to charge the creature, when Donatello held him by his shoulder, shouting over the noise made by the rodents: - This is not the time to be a hero; run!

Both turtles rushed down the corridor, Donnie looking around desperately, trying to find the way back to the lair, which he knew was their only chance. Normally, he'd be able to handle things like Ha'ntaan, but he was weakened from his experiences the day before, and, besides, it would be difficult to convince Raph that he wouldn't be able to make a scratch on that thing-and again Donnie mentally cursed himself, for forgetting to put spells and wards on their weapons, as well. For now, they fled. Once, Donnie felt a putrid wind blowing from behind, and he heard something snap just millimeters from his back. Fortunately, at that moment, Raph turned for a second and threw something at the mass of teeth and claws looming on Donnie.

\- Eat thermite, Mr. Rat! - A loud explosion followed, echoed by something between a howl and a shriek.

But things couldn't keep like that forever; and just as both turtles were starting to give up on hope, they made a sharp turn and were suddenly face-to-face with the familiar pipework that hid the entrance to their lair; Raphael fumbled over the metal, trying to open the door, while Donnie wrote some symbols in the wall with chalk, to slow the progress of the mass of rats long enough for them to enter and shut the door.

They did it, by a rat's whisker; and, even so, a few rats managed to get in before they closed the entrance; they finished them off easily, although Donnie felt it would be better to burn them all, just to be on the safe side. Raph snapped the neck of the last one, before throwing it into the stinking bonfire inside the antique stove in the living room, and asking: - Great, so we're here; what now?

\- I'll grab a couple of things in my lab, and then we can leave by the river exit; check out if it's still open.

While Raph went down to check if the underwater passage on the cellar was clear, Donnie ran to his old lab to grab his notes, some equipment and lots of small spare parts, most of Utrom origin. As he did his scavenging job, he couldn't help but notice how preserved things looked around the lair-like he left it, just the day before. And yet, for his own surprise, he saw himself passing his hand over his desk, his computer, his inventions, in a nostalgic manner.

When Donnie turned to leave, he was startled to see Raph staring from the doorstep at a certain spot next to him. The whiz looked down and saw many shards of glass there, along with a reddish dust thrown around; his pupils dilated, as he remembered what Michelangelo had said earlier to him about Raph and Leo's fight.

\- Ya know – the red turtle started –, I'd never thought this place woulda be so unchanged; reckon it'd be a dusty ruin, filled with cobwebs and-well, rats-, but, everything looks just like... yesterday... - he puffed a large cloud of smoke from the cigarette he was smoking.

Donnie examined his brother's face intently, in doubt as to what to say, before saying it: - Mike told me what happened here, after you defeated the Shredder. I-uh-

\- Yeah, I figger'd he'd said it to you by now- damn coward can't hold his tongue, if his life depended on it...

\- He's not a coward! - Donatello protested, not knowing how the subject turned to that. – Raphael, I understand he let you down, but give him a break-

\- Give 'im a break? - the red turtle walked toward Donatello and pummeled a file cabinet on his way – Give ME a break! - he grabbed Donnie by the throat. - Dammit, I know he lost an arm fighting the fuckin' Foot, but Art and I carried him out of there, with enemy fire up our asses, we patched 'im up, and then what? He sees a lil' blood and turns tail; fuck the twins. Turk, do you have any idea how much does it hurt to lose an eye? Do I have to demonstrate it to you? - and, as he spoke, he brought a sai closer to Donatello's face, who stared unfazed at him. - And do _you_ have any idea how is it to have happo and glass rubbed on your face?

\- Don't talk like you know better- _he_ started it! It was _his_ fault! - Raph violently slammed his brother against the wall. - No, while we're at it, it was all your fault, Turk-you, hoppin' 'round like a Nobody wannabe, with all yer damn secrets... If you were there that night, Splinter wouldn't have died, none of this shit woulda've happened!...

\- If that's how you really feel, Raphael, then this is your chance to do a little justice with your own hands: finish me off, if you want; I'm not moving a finger to stop you.

The red turtle raised his sai again against the whiz, this time pressing the blade against the skin of his neck, till a small red line could be seen. They stood like that for several moments, which felt like an eternity, as Donatello held his breath. Raph, however, released him with only a grunt: - This place is fucking with my head; we should be going. Got all the stuff you need?

\- Y-Yeah... - Donnie was rubbing his neck, still gasping for air. - What about the river exit? Is it still there?

\- Yes; just give the word, we're outta here like last year.

\- Good; so, let's go... - the whiz turned to the door, but, as he was crossing it, he turned his head and saw with apprehension Raphael walk into his laboratory, saying: - Hold on a sec... -; at first, he thought he was going to the spot where the happo was, but he walked right past it and opened a drawer were Donatello used to cash a few snacks. He opened it, took out a Twinkie and simply took a bite of it. - Hmm... guess that's true what they say 'bout these things, after all...

The whiz smiled: - Hey, you made a funny.

\- So I did; sue me.

On the outskirts of a heavily guarded warehouse, Michelangelo and his brother Leonardo were hiding inside a small generator storeroom outside the compound.

\- OK -, Mike was going again through the details of their plan –, according to April's intel, there's a small canister of plutonium inside there. This place ain't a Silent joint, but we should be careful anyway; them punks still mean business.

\- As always. – Mike noticed Leo was acting stranger than usual; on the rare occasions they had to team up on missions for the Resistance, the ex-leader of the team talked in a sardonic, cold manner-but this time, it was different: instead of contempt or indifference, his voice felt hollow, with a tinge of uncertainty, even. Before Donnie's return, he never hesitated to carry through or issue an order; now, Mike wasn't so sure it was the case.

\- OK; so, like, April, any suggestions how we get in? - the albino spoke to a headphone he was wearing. The answer came in after a small delay, with a lot of static: - You should be able to get in through the east gate; security is sloppier there, and you might be able to slip in using one of the arriving convoys; according to their logs, there's one scheduled to get there in about fifteen minutes.

\- Roger; we'll commence phase 1 of the extraction. - he couldn't help but giggle. - Boy, I always wanted to say that line; over and out, dudette.

After he hung up, he turned and saw Leo staring at him with disapproval. - What?

\- You should take this more seriously, Mike; instead of joking around, you'd do better focusing in the mission and recalling your ninja training.

\- Why, thank you for reminding me the obvious, Fearless.

\- Don't call me that, Michael.

\- Well, don't call me Michael, then.

\- Fair enough.

The albino sighed heavily, and then, silent as shadows, both mutants sneaked out to the entrance point and hid at a safe distance while they waited for the transport. Usually, when in a mission, they didn't talk if they could avoid it, but this night Mike was feeling particularly chatty: - It's only missing the swamp.

\- Pardon?

\- The swamp; remember that summer we both went to the swamp upriver, to catch frogs?

\- As I remember, the frogs were the ones who caught us*.

\- Yeah; that was a pretty cool summer.

He kept quiet for a moment, before resuming: - It's amazing, isn't it? A true miracle...

\- What? The summer?

\- You know what I mean, asshole...

\- No, I'm afraid I don't – the leader turned to his brother, a raspy undertone in his voice - ; care to elaborate?

\- Donnie, dammit, I'm talkin' 'bout Donnie! Didn't you see him?

\- Yeah, I did see a mutant that looked like Turvak. So what?

\- So wha-... - Mikey almost shouted out aloud, but he remembered right in time to keep his voice down. He leaned his head on the side of the pile of scrap they were behind, sighing, before he turned to look his brother in the eye.

\- Look, Art, I know that nothin' can change the way things are, and nothin' can bring back the good ol' days. I know, too, that I screwed up big time; I let you and Jack down, when you guys needed me. I know that, and I'm really sorry I did; if you hate me because of that, I understand and I don't blame you; but leave Donnie outta this. All those years, I resented him, hated him even, and then, out of the blue, he pops out from nowhere with a plan to wipe out the fuckin' Silents for good; I got this here feeling in my gut-no, I got it here in my heart-that this return is no coincidence. I mean, what if we manage to pull this stunt off? What if we really finish off the bad guys this time? Then we all could go on with our lives.

Whether Leo was about to reply or not, their conversation was cut off by the sound of a vehicle approaching; they looked out from behind their hiding spot and saw an armored van coming towards the gate.

\- Well – said Leo –, that's our cue; let us blend with the shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

\- This is bad...

Donnie and Raph were looking to a wall that collapsed in the tunnel, leaving access to another passageway connected to the sewer system. Raphael took off his sais, and said: - Keep yer eyes peeled; this place stinks of ambush all over it.

Both mutants walked down the dripping, half-flooded corridor, trying to make the least noise possible and keeping to the shadows; Donatello had a small flashlight, that he turned on for the least possible to see the way and then off. As they progressed, they saw that more places on the walls had collapsed, making that place a complex maze from whose many corners and recesses the Rat King could suddenly appear.

They walked in for a few minutes, which felt like hours, when Donnie tripped and fell onto the rank water in the floor, splashing it noisily about.

\- Some ninja.

\- *cough cough* Dammit, it wasn't my fault; it felt like something grabbed my foot under the water... - he then turned his flashlight to where he tripped, and gasped: beneath the surface was a half-decayed humanoid corpse; its hand, a fibrous lumping mass sticking out of the muck like a tree root, was the cause of his fall.

\- Shit! - Raphael was by his side in an instant. - This can't be good… do you think there may be something else down here, 'sides the Rat?

\- … You thinking about the ghouls? Maybe.

Then they heard a faint yet distinct creaking sound coming from the water, as Donatello felt something wrap around his ankle.

\- More like probably.

All at once, shambling corpses arose from the ground, filling the place with a cacophony of splashes, as they jumped over en masse on the turtles.

\- Fuck! - Raph turned around, nearly avoiding being overwhelmed by a mass of the things, but nonetheless the brothers were hopelessly outnumbered, dealing blows blindly with their weapons (as Donnie lost his flashlight). The creatures weren't armed, but from what they could tell many of them were flooding in to that point through the collapsed walls, and their sheer numbers were enough to crush and suffocate them under its weight.

\- This is hopeless, Donnie; there's just too many of these fuckers!

But Donatello couldn't answer, as something amongst the chaos was attracting his attention: splashing water and shrieks were all over the place, but beneath that there was some kind of rhythm, some kind of pattern, and, as he focused in that subtle rhythm he noticed faint sounds, as if of small objects hitting the surface of the water. He had a dreadful presentiment: so, after he scrutinized the field, trying to figure out an escape for he and Raph, he turned his head up quickly and confirmed his fears: a mass of rodents was hanging by the ceiling, looking down to the scene beneath with voracious eyes.

The Phantasm didn't waste any second: he shouted something and shoved Raph out of the range of impact of the bulk of the mass, and soon both of them were running desperately down the corridor, blocked by more walking bodies, tripping many times in the hidden debris and trampling the undead in the process. The red turtle was shooting behind and in front of them, as well as throwing explosives on their way.

\- Raph, we gotta get to the exit; it's our only hope!

\- What about Ha'ntaan?

\- It's going to feed on those things for a while, so we've got some headstart; do you have anything that can make light?

Donatello heard a clear slap on his left. - Fuck me! - after a few moments he heard a hiss and a bright, red light revealed Raph's drenched face. The light of the flare not only allowed them to see their way, but also, as a bonus, stunned and halted the influx of ghouls.

They kept running for a few more minutes, when their morale suddenly suffered a heavy blow: the main drain leading to the river, next to the industrial park, was blocked by heavy blocks of concrete and other stuff that caved in. - Shit! We're trapped!

Raphael turned around, as he lighted another flare, assuming a battle position. - I guess this is it, then.

But his brother, on the other hand, was thinking frantically to remember another route of escape. He then shouted: - The floodgates! Raph, we can still try the floodgates!

The red turtle turned his head slightly in his brother's direction, still watching the progress of the ghouls from where they had come from. - Good thinking, Donnie! I dunno if that ol' crap is still workin', but it sure beats being cornered like rats in here. But, if Ha'ntaan is comin', how will we pass through him?

\- We don't have a choice: we'll have to fight. - and, as he said that, the Phantasm took off his bag a small spray can and started to shake it. - This is a general-purpose spell I have that'll allow you to go through Ha'ntaan and the ghouls, but not any other solid thing; it wears off after a minute or so.

\- So?

\- So I'm gonna distract Ha'ntaan while you run for the controls and flush these bastards down the river.

\- What about you?

\- Beep me and I'll run for cover; now let's get to it! - he threw the can to the other turtle. - Remember, you've got only one shot; time it right.

Raph nodded once, and both turtles rushed back the way they came, fighting a few dispersed corpses on the way. It didn't take long, however, for them to hear a horrible growl echoing the tunnel, like a train rushing through it.

\- It's coming! Get ready! - Donnie took off a piece of chalk and hurriedly scribbled some symbols on the walls nearby, as well as covering his bo staff with a couple of odd powders while murmuring strange words. Almost immediately after these preparations, they could see two ominous red lights turning around the corner, burning as charcoals straight out of hell.

\- Now!

Raphael sprayed the mould-smelling concoction over himself, as he rushed through the chaotic mass of rats, leaving the Phantasm all by himself. He hadn't been in the sewers for years, but still he had a more or less good idea where they were and where the controls to the floodgates were; it took him some dead ends and false leads, but finally he managed to find the gates and the controls nearby.

As soon as he got there, he tried the controls, but the system wasn't responding; desperate, he tried to fire up the old emergency generator, as a faint sound of squeaking started to get bigger and bigger, but also in vain.

Then, desolated, he looked down to the gates, and, as a plague of rats emerged from where he came from, he realized his only alternative. - Screw this.

He then threw a couple of wads of C-4 at the floodgates, gripped an iron bar in the wall, and pushed the button of a remote control.

The explosion obliterated the heavy doors, and a burst of water rampaged through the room, containing immediately the incoming flux of vermin; soon, that stagnant water flowed down the corridors he and Donnie passed through, with strength enough to break through the debris on the exit, Raph hoped from his precarious hold.

It lasted only about two minutes, but, above the roar of the pouring water, a horrible sound could be heard, something worse than anything that Jack had heard up to that point. When the violence of the current subsided, he let go of the wall and swam back to where Donnie stood earlier, hoping to find him there, but instead he found nothing. Worried, he swam down to the drain exit, and got once again into the open air.

He fell knee down in a shallow pool of filthy muck and looked around desperately, trying to find any sign of his brother; then, he saw his body lying close by, and rushed to him.

\- Donnie! Donnie! - he reached for his pulse, and, with relief, verified that his brother was still alive. He was about to start doing CPR, when Donatello coughed and opened his eyes with difficulty.

\- Donnie, man, yer OK?

\- *cough cough* I'm better than OK – he raised the bag where he put the things he collected from the lair. - I've saved the stuff from the lab.

Raphael shook his head slowly and, for the first time in twenty years, laughed his head off.


	8. Chapter 8

\- So far, so good.

Michelangelo and Leonardo managed to sneak into the compound without trouble, and now were searching a depot, where, according to April's hacking of the warehouse's system, the canister should be. The problem was that the place was packed with goods thrown chaotically about without much organization, and the specific depot they were searching was as big as an hangar.

\- Any luck yet, Michael?

\- I told you, stop callin' me Michael. And no, so far no cigar.

\- Keep looking; it'll turn up eventually.

\- Yeah-if the damn guards don't turn up first.

\- In your position, I'd say that the security personnel would be the least of my concerns.

Both mutants turned swiftly at the direction the voice came from, holding out their weapons, but they couldn't see anyone else inside the room.

\- Who's there? Show yourself!

\- My, my; first, you reptiles invade another person's house, try to steal from said person, and then still demand answers from that same person! After all these years, I see that your manners haven't improved the least bit, cretins.

\- That voice... - Leo whispered to Mike – It sounds so familiar...

\- OK, whoever you are, man, show yourself, or we'll thrash this place till we flush you out!

\- There's no need for such meaningless violence; why, I'm right in front of you. - And, after those words, the turtles saw that a giant robotic armor that had stood motionless before them started to slowly walk to the side and rise its arms matter-of-factly. - You look a bit surprised by my appearance; though I admit that I've gone through some... upgrades... I assure you that I'm still the same brilliant mind that had the displeasure to make your acquaintance twenty years ago, you hateful quelonians.

It then snapped on both Leo and Mike's mind, as they shouted: - Stockman!

\- Indeed; Baxter Stockman, genius extraordinaire, at your service – the robotic suit made a mock reverence. - It's been a while.

Leonardo stiffened his stance, and strengthened his grip on his ninjato. - Look, Stockman, we don't want any trouble with you; we're just here to retrieve an object, and then we'll leave peacefully the way we came. - Mike nodded for emphasis: - Yeah, it's true; we don't have the time to tangle wit'ya.  
\- Is that so? - Stockman then opened up a lot of trapdoors around his robotic body, displaying a huge amount of short-range missiles, all pointing straight to the two ninja. - Do tell me, before I blow your sorry carcasses into molecules of turtle soup, what that object might be?

\- We need to retrieve a metallic canister of enriched plutonium.

Suddenly, a high, metallic laughter boomed around the empty room, and the turtles looked around, fearing it might attract the guards outside. - Surely hell is laced with subtle irony-you creatures mean you came all the way here to get your malformed hands on this? - he then extracted a small cylinder from a cavity below where anatomically speaking the heart should be and held it up.

\- Oh shit...

\- That's right; this small cylinder of radioactive material is the juice that keeps good old Baxter Stockman ticking; I'm afraid I can't simply handle it to you mutants, as tempting as the idea might be...

\- You don't understand! That cannister might well be the only thing able to stop the System's madness!

\- Oh, I see-desperate measures for desperate times...

\- No, man, not like that! If we'd want to off ourselves, we wouldn't need a nuke to do that! Our brother figured a way to find Silent Central and rig up a gadget to blow it to kingdom come.  
\- Yes; surely you want to see the System destroyed as much as we do-in which case, we have a common enemy.

\- Hmm... I have to admit, I do have a feud with those insufferable buffoons; your and O'Neil's interference cost me my retirement, but the inception of the System cost me my revenge on you aberrations-not to mention many other inconveniences, of course. One of those would be my unfortunate dependence on plutonium, as all energy sources available to me after the creation of the System weren't powerful enough to feed my exosuit, developed with D.A.R.P.A. technology.

\- Then why don't you handle the cannister to us and join forces with the Resistance? They could sure use your weapons for the cause.

\- I understand that you are inferior bastard life forms, but didn't you hear me say this plutonium is the only thing that can keep my suit-my body-operational? Without it, I'd soon turn into a vegetable, and eventually, into worm food plus rust.

\- Look, there are a lot of science-people with us that can fix something up-Donnie, April, Leatherhead...

Stockman laughed once more. - Joining sides with that turncoat O'Neil and her circus of freaks? I'd rather not. Instead, I'd like to make things more interesting for all of us: I propose... a game.

\- A game?

\- Yes, a game. If you win, I'll let you have the cannister; but, if you fail... well, I think that part is a trifle too obvious. Do you accept these terms, freaks?

\- Fair enough; and what are the rules of this "game"?

\- It's quite simple, even for your lesser intellect: if you're able to retrieve the cannister from my chest, you win. That being said, we commence.

Immediately after he finished that sentence, Stockman rushed through a couple of wooden crates in front of him, shooting Gatling-like guns all over where the turtles stood; the mutants, by their side, separated and tried to flank the robotic armor. Stockman, however, locked on on them and fired a couple of heat-seeking missiles. The turtles, however, managed to avoid the attacks: Mike used his Dragon Breath* ninja technique on his missile, which exploded in midair, while Leo timed a backflip and cut the escape engine of his missile, making it fall down in the ground without exploding.

\- Well, well, I see old age did nothing to diminish your physical prowess; too bad our fun ends now. - then Stockman fired more missiles, this time more than just two.

\- I don't have time for this; Mike! - Leo shouted his brother's nickname, for the first time since long – take down all missiles but one!

Mike nodded, grinning knowingly, and readied his assault rifle for the next assault; after he destroyed most of the missiles, Leo made the same backflip, but this time he timed it so he landed on it, altering its course; he then fell down, and the missile fell too, close to where Stockman was firing from, and sprang away from it.

\- Ugh! Curse you, maggot!

The explosion made Stockman lose his balance; Leonardo threw a smoke pellet on the ground, and together he and Mike rushed Stockman, toppling him down like a cow. After the heavy metallic thump, Leo took advantage of the smoke to grab hold of the cannister.

\- It appears we have won, Stockman.

\- Indeed; you've won the cannister. But, if you wish to enjoy it, I'd suggest you start running.

\- What!?

\- I am a man of my word; you won, I lost-again. Though, I have to say, all this ruckus was sure bound to call the compound's security system attention, don't you think?

\- Shit! We gotta get outta here, pronto!

\- Hahaha! Good luck with that, fools! I may be done for, but, either way, Baxter Stockman wins in the end!

Both turtles rushed to the nearest exit, where they could see an approaching horde of heavily-armed soldiers surrounding the deposit, and a few shots were already being fired at their direction. Michelangelo answered back with his rifle, while Leonardo was doing his best with the few shuriken he had on him.

\- Dude, seriously? You bring a knife to a gunfight?

\- That's what I do best.

\- That's how you die best; here, grab this. - he threw his SMG to his brother.

\- What?

\- *sigh* Leo, meet Suzy; Suzy, meet Leo. Now pull that pin over there and start shootin'.

After a few minutes of gunfire, it was clear that the mutants wouldn't be able to hold their ground for much longer; suddenly, Mike stopped firing his gun and started to sniff the air. - Leo, I can't believe this, but I think April is nearby.

\- What? Why?

\- 'Cuz I'm smelling that stinking oil she uses in her workshop-that damn thing reeks from miles away. If you pay attention, too, you'll hear a chopper outside.

It was true; both of them could hear now the sound of a chopper approaching-and so did the shooters outside, who started to disperse. The ninja took advantage of this temporary cease-fire and climbed up a set of stairs that led to the roof from within, and, from a window there, they looked a chopper come down next to where they were, while another two and a tank were tangled with the defending soldiers.

\- Hey, look! It's April, and Miwa is with her! - Mike started to wave his arms, followed by Leo; soon, a rope stair was thrown to them, and they climbed it and met their friends again.  
\- What are you gals doing here? I thought we were all by ourselves on this one.

\- Clearly, you wouldn't manage it on your own. - April replied, from the pilot's seat.

\- Besides, the board of officials from the Base came to conclude that it was in our best interest to claim this hostile base's supplies for ourselves. - Miwa complemented.

\- Cool! We're, like, technopirates or sumthin'! Arrhh!

\- We don't plunder or sack, Uncle Mike; we take war prizes; which is totally different.

\- Yeah, Mike – Leo approached, and put his hand on his brother's shoulder –; totally different.

Regardless of the opinion of his brother, Mike simply stuck his tongue out at him; and, for the surprise of all present, Leo stuck his tongue back at him.


	9. Chapter 9

TMNT – Broken Roots

SAME AS IT NEVER WAS

PART II – DESCENT INTO MADNESS

\- Oww yeya'll-didja see tha fool's face? He was like 'Curse you meddlesome turtles and your cursed ninja moves!', and we, we were like 'In your face, bitch!'. - Back in the base, Mike was radiant with their victory; sure, the Resistance had won small battles like that before, but this one had a special taste about it that seemed to be contaminating even the twins.

\- Good thing ya enjoyed yerself, Mike; me, I just hope someday I can smell something else than undead stink...

\- We accomplished our part of this mission; now is time we hear what my ninja learned. Ocho?

One of the Foot leaning on the wall of the meeting room walked forward when Leonardo called. - Hai, sensei; we scouted the places your brother listed, and, thanks to the arts he has thought us, we were able to pinpoint a peculiar source of disturbance near the mine.

\- What mine?

\- This one. - Cha Ocho pointed to a red spot displayed in Donnie's map on the screen. - Rockwell Mine. Opened in the 1890's; the company that owned it broke during the Depression and shut it down. However, it appears that in 1988 the place was bought by West Coast Mining, who modernized the installations and bought new equipment, but they too filled for bankruptcy and the place has been abandoned since.

Donnie leaned closer to the screen, examining intently the flashing light; tapping for a while on his palmtop, he was able to expand the small spot and image the place. - Hmm... it's located on rocky land, surrounded by a bit of swampland and by a cliff on the seaside, and it's pretty isolated from the rest of Manhattan.

\- Yes, that is correct. Oddly enough, Donatello-san, we weren't able to detect any kind of Silent activity there; we even sent a small party to scour the tunnels, but they weren't able to find anything.

\- You did? Damn, that was too dangerous, you shouldn't... - Donatello paused. - Well, no use regretting it now; what did you find down there?

Ocho produced a small sketchbook from his belt, and put it open on the table. - There are two levels before the main excavation, connected by elevators at the end of each. The elevators still work, and we were able to get to the third level, which was little more than a huge bottomless hole in the ground. There were tracks on the sides of the pit, but we couldn't get the mining carts to work, and, since it was a long walk down, we left it like that.

\- What about the first two levels?

\- Pretty much just long corridors that keep going down; the supports had been reinforced with concrete in the 90's, the foundation looks strong enough...  
\- And you couldn't find any evidence of recent human occupation there?

\- No, not one. Not even bats and those kinds of things you expect to find in an abandoned mine. That place is pretty isolated: there's nothing alive in a radius of miles around that accursed hill.

The whiz didn't answer immediately; he paused for a few moments, thinking, before finally saying: - This is not good; it looks like the kind of place you'd find an Ancient One-it's there, no question about it. But it certainly smells like a trap. And, if I know an Ancient One, it's not like them to make traps; I don't like this.

\- Ow, c'mon, Donnie-boy-you think we havin' a ball here? - Raphael got up as he spoke. - Look, trap or no trap you've got a lead on the Silents and that's more anyone in this room can say, ama'rite? - he opened his arms for emphasis; nobody said anything. - So whatever ya gonna do, ya can sign up my ass, and I gonna carve a platoon of those pukebrain bozos if I have to.

\- Yeah, me too.

\- And me.

\- You can count on all of us, uncle Donatello. - Miwa got up and walked to where Donatello was; she put her hands on his shoulders before continuing. - But, before I compromise any further the base, I have to ask: what is exactly the plan?

Donatello turned his head slowly around the presents, but he couldn't read their expressions. Finally, he said: - Well, in a nutshell, I want to create a mini nuclear bomb, go down the hole in that mine and blow the Ancient One to hell.

The room was dead silent for a moment; then Mike expressed everyone's feelings about Donnie's plan. - Yeah, I think we all saw that coming.

Raphael turned to his brother. - And what do we do?

\- I can't convince you guys to not come along, can I? - the red masked turtle shook his head in a calm yet firm fashion; so did Mike, no traces of smile on his face, and Leo, whose face only suggested faint hints of worry.

The whiz sighed. - OK, I was expecting something like that from you, and I expect trouble before we reach the inner sanctum, so it will be nice to have someone to cover my back; but, you don't know how dangerous that thing can be. Guys, you gotta promise me that, if the going gets tough, you won't play hero and you'll use this. - he opened his bag and took off a square electronic device about as large as his palm, with a circle in the middle producing a blueish light.

\- So what is that?

\- That, turtles, is an Instamat – Leatherhead interrupted –; something I've worked on in the past. It's pretty much a pocket version of the Transmat; but you get to use it only once, and then it is destroyed.

\- You heard the 'gator: only one shot. Keep that in mind. - he threw the device to Raph.

\- Say what? - Michelangelo suddenly protested. - If ya can beam stuff with that like with the Transmat, then why don't you just zap the bomb up that thing's ass and we're all done?  
\- 'Cuz the Instamat works by bending the immediate spacetime around the user; however, the spacetime around an Ancient One is fuzzy and chaotic; in other words, beaming the bomb directly at it is as good as beaming it to Pluto, and it probably is where it'd get.

\- But... I thought the plan was you were supposed to carry it to that monster and then beat it before it blew; how are you supposed to beam yourself out?

\- Don't worry; I've got a spell that can trap me in a kind of 'reality bubble' before I get too close to the creature, so that I'll be able to beam back.

Miwa asked: - So how many of those things you have, Donatello?

\- Not many; anyway, it doesn't matter: it's just we ninja going into the eye of the hurricane.

\- What? You mean you guys are going alone against that what-you-call-it?

\- Not even me, Donnie? - April volunteered.

\- No, not this time, I'm afraid; it's better to have a small group for this attack; besides, I'm gonna need your help.

\- Count us in; how can we be of help?

\- I need you to launch an attack simultaneously on the other bases of the Silents: we need a decoy, to distract our move, but also to avoid the Enemy getting any kind of reinforcement from the outside-there's some other unknown in this equation and we can't be too careful about it.

\- I see... well, we're prepared to attack the Silents anytime, and I'll pull some strings to see if I can get help from the other Resistance hideouts. We'll do our best.

\- … Thanks, Miwa.

The young woman nodded and smiled sharply at the mutant. - You're very welcome, Uncle. - she then turned back to the monitor displaying the red dots with a fierce look. - Pick a date to finish those bastards off once and for all. Any time.

\- We leave as soon as we finish building the bomb, at the crack of dawn; Cha can drive us there, and then we're on our own.

\- I think I can work with that; for now, I suggest we all get some sleep; meeting dismissed.

A light knock was heard outside. - Donnie?

\- Yeah, come in.

Donatello was finishing writing a spell on the surface of a kusarigama; this time, he made sure to use all the extent of his knowledge of the supernatural to help them fight against the unknown.

\- Oh, hey Leo. What's in your mind?

The ex-leader of the band was feeling uncomfortable around the whiz; Mike was snoring heavily next to them, but that didn't help a single bit to relax the awkwardness of the moment. Nonetheless, Leonardo looked up from his sunglasses directly into his brother's eyes. - I know what you're doing.

Donatello pretended he didn't get it, as he continued writing on the blade. - Doing what? Writing spells?

Leonardo didn't answer immediately; instead, he quietly unsheathed one of his swords and used it do delicately push the kusarigama from his brother's brush. - Turvak-Donatello-look me in the eye and answer this: is there any chance you'll come out alive tomorrow?

\- Wha- What are you talkin' about, Leo? Of course I will; that's what the Instamats are for; didncha pay attention at the meeting?

Instead of replying, Leonardo simply lowered his head and stared silently his brother with a sight Donatello recognized on the spot: the same one Leonardo used to make his brothers fess up when he knew that any of them did something wrong. Donatello saw that denying it was pointless now. - *sigh* I figured I wouldn't be able to hide it from you.

\- Hide what, exactly?

\- Like I said in the meeting, the spacetime near the Ancient One is unstable, which works both ways-you can't zap in or out of there using an Instamat.

\- What about that 'reality bubble' you spoke of? Was that a lie?

\- Theoretically, it should work; however, there's not any guarantee that it will. As with any other thing in life.

\- So what are you saying? That this is a suicide mission for whoever has to carry the bomb?

\- I'm not saying that; the influence isn't infinite, you can probably use the Instamat after making some distance from the target.

\- Probably? Don't you have certainty about anything in life?

Donatello sighed deeply; if Leo appreciated science as much as he did, he'd see that life is all about probabilities. But that wasn't the point.

\- Look, Leo, I'm not saying this isn't dangerous; I'm saying that, of all the people in this base, I'm the best prepared to deal with this situation, and I'm the one with the higher chance of getting out of the inner sanctum alive-so, I'm the most logical candidate.

Leonardo put his hands softly on both of his brother's shoulders. - Maybe so; but you don't have to do this, Donnie. You don't have to prove anything. None of this is your fault...

\- None of this? - the whiz's voice became cold. - I should have trusted you guys with the secret of the Phantasm, but I didn't; I shouldn't have been so careless when I confronted the Ancient One the first time, but instead I was. Now, the world is dying slowly. If this is anybody's fault, I think it's fair to say it is mine, Art.

\- Donnie... Donnie... - Leonardo's grip on Donatello's shoulders became steadily stronger. - Just... just give me the bomb...

The whiz didn't answer. Leo repeated: - Donnie...

\- Get out of my room, Leo.

Leo hesitated, but he finally released his grip on his brother, and slowly turned to leave. He had just hold the doorknob, when Donnie said to his back. - I'm counting on you to protect Mike and Raph. You didn't fail them back then, and I'm sure you won't fail them tomorrow.

Leo didn't respond, and left as quietly as a ninja could; Donnie, on his side, couldn't get to sleep that night.

The turtles and six Foot elite stopped in front of the bleak, ruined entrance to the Rockwell mine. For the umpteenth time, Donnie revised the plan with the rest of the party.

\- Remember: the devices are programmed to beam us back to the base; you are gonna follow me up to a certain point, but then I'll have to go alone, and you beam yourselves back. I'll meet you there if I can, but, anyway, you'll get to know if the mission was successful if you hear a big ass explosion coming from that mine.

They nodded silently in response, and, after a signal from a scout sent ahead, the small band entered the menacing gloom of the cavern's entrance as stealthily as they could.


	10. Chapter 10

For many minutes that felt like hours, they walked without making a single noise, while also keeping some distance from each other; until then, their incursion had been uneventful, but they couldn't repress a foreboding feeling, as if the walls themselves were breathing, in waiting. Each member sported nightvision goggles – which were part of the Foot gear –, as they didn't dare using flashlights even in that seemingly empty corridor.

Just then, Ocho, who was ahead of the band, walked back slowly to where Donatello was, and whispered to him. - We're approaching the stockroom; both the first and second levels have one, next to an elevator and a small complex of rooms.

\- Good; now, Ocho, I remember you saying you guys explored these rooms before. - the Foot elite nodded. - This time, however, I think it would be best for your men to stay clear from them.  
\- I hear you. - then he sped ahead to reach the elevator.

It was right up ahead, though the turtles, who were behind Cho and a couple of other scouts, couldn't see it yet – when, all of a sudden, the band heard a loud screeching noise, which startled them and made them draw their weapons, came from that direction.

\- Dammit!

\- Ocho! What happened!?

\- The elevator, Master; the main cable supporting it gave up and it fell down. - they saw Cha Ocho approach them. - I-I don't understand; we checked it earlier, it was in perfect condition; it's almost like it's been...

-... sabotaged. - Donatello stared fixedly at the elevator's direction.

The turtles reached the elevator and looked at its shaft: it was a wide, deep, dark well, extending beyond their field of vision. Leonardo turned to two of his elite. - Reynolds, Sasuke, get down there and see if there's a way to proceed.

The two men bowed quickly and started to climb down the shaft's side using ropes. After twenty tense minutes, they heard voices coming from the dark well: - No go, Master; the debris of the fall sealed shut the exit, and it's too heavy to lift.

\- Dammit! Ocho – Leo turned to his second-in-command –, is there another way to access the lower levels?

\- Well, there's a smaller elevator inside the complex-

Cha Ocho was interrupted by a startling event: one of the ninja who climbed down the elevator walked limply to where he stood and fell over him, and, when he did, Ocho felt something warm splash on his face; he immediately turned and, to his horror, he could clearly see through his nightvision goggles that where the elite's face and mask should be now there was mostly a disfigured crater, as if his face had been drilled from behind.

At the same time, Donatello made a quick movement towards the shaft and hit something in midair, which came down below with a squeaking sound. - The walls! They're coming from the walls!

At that point, all ninja had already drawn their weapons, and now were scanning around rapidly to see what the black-masked turtle was referring to; it didn't take long for them to see the hole the size of a human head in the wall behind the elevator's entrance, which was enough to make even their breaths perfectly silent.

Now, they were able to hear faint scratching noises, like muffled digging, and then they heard the sound of sand being thrown around accompanied by a loud scream, as a disfigured arm emerged from a wall and grabbed the neck of a terrified Foot. Soon, more body parts started to emerge all around them.

\- Quick, to the other elevator! Lights on! Cha, lead the way!

They quickly followed Ocho through the maze of corridors and offices, as Mike, Raph and a few Foot stayed behind to try to slow down those... things. They couldn't quite be sure what they were – some looked humanoid, but other had tentacles and other monstrous traits or deformities. And they were strong, too, to be able to burrow through the solid rock of the mine.  
Donnie, Ocho and Leo, however, were in dire straits: there were scores of the abominations standing between them and the elevator at the end of a corridor.

\- Shit! They're all over the place!

\- Looks like we're fighting our way in – Raphael crossed his sai and stood in a battle position, as he just rushed from the rear.

All said and done; the Foot and the turtles started to hack through the mass of creatures using their enchanted weapons, which performed wonderfully against their enemies; also, the Phantasm was writing sealing spells on the walls to prevent more of them flooding the corridor.

The rear, however, wasn't doing so good; they could hear shots being fired, and, when they turned for a split-second, they saw Mike firing his rifle at a steel fence they passed earlier, which the Foot were trying to barricade with barrels and anything at hand. It was bad enough as it was, when the fence gave in and a mass of the things flooded the corridor.

\- Guys! - Mike yelled at his back. - I got this! Keep going!

\- The hell you're sayin'!?

To have some pause, Mike breathed fire – magic fire, no less, courtesy of Donnie – all over the fence, before turning, for a last time, to smile at his brothers.

It didn't take more than a second after the flames died for an ominous, bulging shadow to step in, and in a single, quick, fell swoop, the sharp teeth wrapped themselves around the albino's skull and bit the top of his head clean off; as blood squirted all around the walls, Michelangelo's tongue squirmed around for a split second, before his lifeless body gave under the pressure of the wave of assailants.

But a split second was enough, as all of his brothers saw the whole thing.

\- MIKEEEEEEEY!

\- Quick, to the elevator! It's our only chance!

The turtles hesitated for a moment, but they turned and ran immediately to the end of the corridor, finishing off a few monsters in the way with quick and enraged blows; after the last one of the survivors entered the metal cabin, Cha Ocho closed the door and they went down.

The survivors – all six of them, three elite, three turtles – stood there, an awkward silence oppressing the atmosphere. Raphael seemed to be the only one who didn't care about the silence, as he breathed in loudly large doses of air.

\- Raph... - Donatello raised a hand towards the red-bandanna fighter, but Leonardo slowly put his hand down, shaking his head.

All of a sudden, Raphael lost it and started to punch frenetically at the cabin's metallic interior. - FUCK! FUCK! FUUUCK!

\- Raph... - he tried calling his brother again, but to no avail; Raphael was now impervious to anything they could possibly say. Donatello had never seen him so pissed in his whole life. Then, suddenly, the fact that Mike was dead started to slowly sink in, and he felt a burning urge to vomit. He resisted it, and turned to look at the other twin: Leo's face was a mystery; he couldn't read a single trace of emotion on it. Another thought stroke him; he whispered: - Leo, that thing... it... it looked like...

-... Leatherhead.

 _Yes; but how could this be?_

The surviving Foot ninjas weren't as touched as the turtles by Mike's death, but they could respect their loss, and also they knew fully well how grave the situation was. It was an unspoken agreement, but all of them agreed to give their best against the foes that certainly awaited them on the next level, as they caught their second wind.

As the elevator came to a stop and a ring was heard, the door slowly opened, but before it was finished, Raphael lunged forward in a berserk rage, slicing anything that dared stand in his way, soon followed by the rest of the survivors, who screamed a war cry as they left the cabin.


	11. Chapter 11

Progress was slow, but sure; guided by Ocho's memory, they soon approached the elevator at the other end of that level; they were on the other side of a fence, placed just like the one where Mike died, and started to plow their way in, when suddenly Raphael, who was at the head of the charge, felt something attacking his flank; enraged, he turned and forgot his anger for about an instant when he saw who the attacker was, and stuttered:

\- But... but I... I killed you...

\- And I came back to repay the favor.

The thing that spoke, under a mass of starfish appendices and icky goo, had just the minimum necessary to recognize Raphael's likeness – and Raphael knew perfectly well that, apart from his twin brother, there was only one other mutant turtle in the world that looked like him*.

Raphael's hesitation, though, didn't last long, as he lunged ahead screaming: - RAAARGHH!

Basically all that Raph knew about combat, so did his shadow counterpart. He had more appendages than a mutant turtle, so it was like fighting a goddamn giant squid on acid holding a sword in each tentacle. Fighting him was all the more tougher because the rest of the abominations kept flaying around him; he couldn't count on his brothers, either, because they too were surrounded by a dense coating of enemies.

Clearly, Shadow Raph had the upper hand there, even against an enraged Raph; so, not after long, Raphael started to tire, and the shadow started to wrap itself more and more around the one-eyed ninja; at one point, after cutting a nasty gash at his arm, the shadow brought what used to be its head close to Raphael's ear and whispered: - I'm gonna fuck you in ways you never imagined possible, you filthy wretch! - and, after saying so, it thrust one of its appendages right through Raphael's carapace, bursting all the way out through his chest. Not long after that, another appendage bored through his skull, sticking out from his eyeless socket.

Raphael gave a horrible scream, but he regained his footing and spat back at his opponent: - No... it ain't *gk*... end like this...

Then, with his final wind, he pulled a lump of clay mass along with many metallic pins from his jacket and shoved it right through what should be his opponents' intestines; they heard when something clicked there.

And then they exploded in a rain of bloody gore.

Donatello and Leonardo were too busy to watch the whole scene, but the blast was enough to tell them what happened. However, they hadn't a second to waste: the air blast momentarily stunned the nearby creatures, allowing them to rush to the elevator. They weren't a moment too soon, as the ceiling started to cave in, crushing dozens of their foes where they stood. They rushed in, and closed the cabin's door.

Only Donnie, Leo and Ocho survived the battle; however, they weren't given respite to think about it, because, as the elevator started to descend, they heard scratching and gurgling sounds above them, and, as soon as they looked up, the grating fell down and two creatures tried to reach inside for them. And, to add injury to insult, one of the things chewed off the electric cable, making the elevator go to a complete halt.

\- Quick! Cut the cable!

\- How? This thing is pure steel!

\- I don't know! Just chop at the damn thing!

Leo and Ocho sliced at the thick cable with their swords while Donnie staved off the incoming attackers with his staff, but, as hard as they tried, they couldn't cut the stubborn thing; it was hopeless, and Ocho said so.

Donatello then remembered something: Raphael gave him a small grenade as a gift after they got back from the sewers; it was still in his pocket. _Thanks, Jack..._ He turned to Leo, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and tied the explosive in it. - Leo, shoot this through the trapdoor! - his brother glanced at him and, in a second, figured that he had only one shot. He nodded, Donatello pulled the pin, and gave him the arrow.

He aimed for the trapdoor, while Ocho and Donatello tried their best to clear the way for him; nevertheless, when he fired, the arrow pierced through the hip of an incoming creature, and exploded just at the right distance to explode the main cable to smithereens, plunging the trio down the shaft.

\- Brace yourselves! - the distance from the ground wasn't too great, but it was enough to shake them badly; immediately after they recovered their senses, they cracked the door open and rushed out, to be welcomed by the gaping mouth open in front of them.

The trio didn't have much time to catch their third wind, as more abominations started to pour through the sizzling trapdoor after a while.

Turtles and man gave a quick scan of the floor: there were no signs of enemies nearby; they stood at some kind of platform, and right ahead the hole spiraled down to the bottom. There was a mining cart not far from where they were; Donatello rushed to it and tried to start the engine, after Leo, who studied the scenario in a fraction of a second, ordered: - Give me your bo, Donatello.

The black-masked turtle didn't even know what he was doing: he simply obeyed, mechanically, as Leo, also mechanically, stood guard with Cha Ocho while the whiz ran off to see to the cart.

It took Donnie about five minutes – an eternity – to get the old motor running, and, as soon as he shouted, the two Foot ninja ran back to him and they immediately went down the spiral of the pit.

This was the final stage of the plan. Neither Leonardo or Donatello, though, felt like celebrating, or simply talking, for that matter; it was Ocho the one to break the ice.

\- I'm really sorry about your losses, Master; but still, others of the clan died there, too; focus on the mission, or else we will fail, and all their deaths will have been for nothing. Seek a modicum of solace for your grieve in revenge!

\- You're right, Ocho; I will focus on our current mission. But, before that, lemme ask you something, Turk.

\- Y-Yeah? What is it?

\- Was it all worth it?

That question hit Donatello like a bulldozer over his head. He never thought any one of his brothers would ask him something like that, but there was Leo, right there, saying that the blood of his brothers was in his hands.

Donatello's heart raced, his head throbbed; nevertheless, all he managed to say was: - We'll see.

\- … We'll see. - after a pause: - So, according to plan, now is the time you infiltrate the sanctum with the nuke.

\- Yes.

\- Do you have it with you now?

Donnie's hand protectively held to the pocket in his overcoat where the device was. - Don't think about that, Art; it's still a stupid idea.

\- Why? Now I don't have anything to live for.

For Leo's and Donnie's own surprise, Donatello slapped once at his brother's face; his shades, which he wore even beneath his goggles, fell down into the glooming darkness of the seemingly bottomless pit.

\- Don't you ever talk like that again, Leo; you got me; you got Ocho; you got April, Miwa, and you got Casey, Angel, Splinter, Mikey, Raph... all of them, even if they are dead! You can't just give up on yourself now; what would our friends think about you if they saw you like this?

Leo turned his head to the tracks coming from the way ahead, and, as if he could see for the first time in years, he widened his eyes. After that, he turned to Donatello: - Thanks, bro. - he held up his hand, and Donnie understood: he gripped it and held it like in an ironfist fight, like they used to do when they were teens. - And welcome to a New World.


	12. Chapter 12

When they reached the bottom, it was anything but a welcoming sight: the gravel on the floor was covered with an unspeakable filth, as were the walls, filled with obscene ritualistic formulas and forbidden enchantments, all written in blood. As unpleasant as it was, Donnie scanned the large hole for clues as to where the Ancient One might be.

He didn't have much of a headstart, when he heard an echo of an impact, as though a large piece of rotten fruit fell to the ground. Mere seconds later, they heard Ocho's cry of "Kiai!", as he sliced through the engorged, grotesque figure in front of him. Instinctively, Donnie looked around to see where it could have come from, but them he realized something and looked up.

\- They're falling from the third level!

Indeed, this required more ingenuity on his part; he doubled his efforts in assessing the terrain, when, with some difficulty, he found it: a crevice in the wall, some 400 m from the side of the pit where they stood.

\- Ocho! Leo! Keep them busy, I'm going in!

\- Good luck, bro; give 'em hell! - Leo screamed, as he chopped through a small army of the abominations, at the same time taking care not to be squashed by the incoming enemies from above.

\- So – Leonardo heard Ocho scream above the overall cacophony –, it seems that, in the end, it's you and me against the world, eh, Leo?

\- What happened to 'Master'?

\- The same thing that will happen to us soon enough; it was an honor serving under you, Leonardo. Tonight, we dine in hell; drinks are on me.

\- Thanks, but I'd rather dine in heaven; I've had enough of hell.

He felt lighthearted, even as the waves of enemies started to increase and he had to fight standing over the piles of corpses; however, at one time, he turned and the vision before him drained him of all his morale:

\- No... anything but this...

Before him, as obscene caricatures of their former selves, there they stood: Casey, Angel, Splinter... Mikey... Raph... all of them, even though they were dead.

Jackpot... if you can call it that.

Donnie was hot on the Ancient One's trail; the same sensations that flooded his body, when he first confronted the thing a few days (centuries?) back, flooded him now. It wasn't something in the atmosphere, but it was the essence of things themselves that felt perverted, wrong, sickly. If he had the heart for it, he'd calm himself by quipping "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore". Only he wasn't Dora, and that place certainly wasn't Oz.

The spacetime disturbances were growing faster now; he expected to get face-to-face with the enemy any time now. And, as if to oblige his thoughts, suddenly the narrow corridor he had been walking on opened to a large chamber, carved inside the bosom of the earth. There was a throne in the middle of the chamber. And, for Donatello's utter perplexity, the one who sat on it was himself. Barely.

\- Hello, handsome.

For a fleeting moment, the black-masked turtle thought he had gone completely insane; but, just as he was about to believe it, it all made sense. He spoke, trying to feign an air of superiority. - So you are the Turvak from this world.

\- Precisely; care to take a seat?

\- No, thank you; there's only one thing I need to do in this stinking place.

\- Oh, I know, sugarcake; that's why I'm here, guarding my pretty Master while it sleeps. You don't have no business disturbing Master's sleep. I take care of all its affairs, now.

\- ...Why?

\- Why? Because it suits me. I know it. Once, I was just like you: aspiring great things, but always overshadowed by the success of my other siblings; all the potential, wasted in self-loathing for not being the one thrown in the gutter and abused by a perverse old man, or the one who turned out a plaything for the boys in white in TCRI.

\- That's not true.

\- Please, don't attempt to lie to me, it's a pathetic waste of my time. - the Other Donatello continued. - But all of that changed, one day, when Master came along, and gave me Power, gave me Opportunity, gave me everything I ever wanted; and I gladly accepted it.

\- Bullshit. I was there, I know how it happened: he took you by force, and did to you whatever he wanted; he twisted and corrupted you, and he made you what you are, so you can carry on his twisted designs.

\- That is a minor technicality; it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you're not going anywhere, sweetheart; whether you like it or not, you're going to join me, in the glory that is my Master. - And, making obscene gestures, the thing rose from its throne and walked its way to the Phantasm.

\- I don't think so. - as he said that, he threw a shuriken hidden in his sleeve towards the thing; it dodged it, as if it was the most natural reflex in the world.

\- But I beg to differ.

\- ONE!

Leonardo screamed, as he sliced his katana through the thing that once had been Splinter the Rat, trying desperately to pretend he was doing something else somewhere else. Memories flooded his brain: the day he left Splinter fall down into the sewage, the time he went hunting frogs with Mike, the movie that he and Raph never saw when they were kids...

\- TWO!

Anything; anything, but that. He knew that, the moment he realized what he was doing, to whom, and what they had become, he would break; he would break and fall, and fail his one living sibling. He needed a distraction, no matter what.

\- Ocho! Cha Ocho! Are you still with me!?

Nothing. Not a single coherent word, in that babel of gurgles and squeaks.

But he needed something, not nothing. So, he thrust a ninjato into his left thigh, and turned the blade around two times, while parrying Casey's attack, hoping it would be enough. It had to.

\- THREE!

Donatello wasn't doing any better. Differently than Raph, his Other self evenly matched him – not only in combat skill and battle tactics, but also in terms of supernatural power (even though from different sources). That was the problem, here: they were TOO evenly match, as in, given eternity, they would always end up in a tie. The problem is he hadn't eternity.

Every blow he dealt with the bo, his opponent stopped; every attack of the Other Donatello was promptly parried by the black-masked turtle. They kept at it for what felt like hours, and it probably were hours, as spacetime wasn't as stable in that chamber as it was outside. After giving it some thought, Donatello, desperately, tried to figure a way out of this impasse.

It was then that the solution came to him: in any fight, you win by doing something your opponent doesn't expect, or is ill-prepared to retaliate against; to win, he had to do something that he, Donatello, would never consider doing. But how can you do that?

His mind raced, divided between his dilemma and the fight with the Other Donatello; time was running out, and he had to do something fast. He decided to follow instinct (or something like that) and did the first thing that came to his head: he grabbed a shuriken from his bamboo dispenser, and, without a moment's hesitation, he shoved it inside his mouth and chewed hard on it; he felt the blades tearing at his gums and the ceiling of his mouth, as well as the tears of pain flowing down his face, but he tried to ignore those and focus on his crucial next move.

The Other Donatello stopped for a moment his attack, and kept staring curiously at Donnie, as a child stares curiously at a new toy – that is, it would, if it had an expression, to begin with. It said: - … Now that's something new...

Donnie grabbed his only chance; he lunged forward with his bo like a spear, popping out the small blade at the tip, piercing the Other Donatello with it, and, without wasting any momentum, he ran towards the bubbly mass of the Ancient One while at the same time programming the nuke for instantaneous detonation, before pressing the final button.

He then just closed his eyes, and hoped this would work.


	13. Chapter 13

Donatello woke up feeling a soft breeze over his face. He opened his eyes, and, for his stark surprise, he saw the sun shining down in all his glory over him. He turned his head around, and noticed that he was lying down on a patch of green grass. His mouth, too: it didn't hurt, nor tasted of blood.

It didn't make any sense.

Did he die? Was this heaven? He didn't have a clue, and he never had given much thought to it before, but, if this place was indeed heaven, it would work just fine for him.

After the annoying flashes and sparks stopped dancing around his eyeballs, he sat down and learned immediately that he was at the Central Park – the world around was still destroyed, and polluted, and quiet, but somehow, the very air smelled of peace. He laid down again.

 _I don't care if this is heaven or not; I just wanna lay down here forever._

But his desire wasn't to be; after a few seconds, a rustling sound startles him, and makes him sit up again. He sees some bush foliages moving, and, through them, passes the figure of Leonardo, his brother.

\- I've already paid my respects to Dad; you should do it, too. After all, we won. He can finally rest in peace, now.

Donatello was shocked: seeing Leo alive – battle-damaged, true, but alive –, speaking about Splinter, and victory, and all that... what did he miss?

Slowly, Donnie stood up to his feet; with baby steps, he walked towards Leo, who gently got out of the way and waved him in, towards the old wooden cane stuck into the ground.

Donnie was at a loss as what to do, what to say. He finally knelt down and joined his hands in prayer, while chanting a Buddhist hymn Splinter taught him.

After he finished, still kneeling, he turned to Leo, who hadn't moved an inch since, and asked: - What happened?

Leaning to a tree, he said, matter-of-factly: - It's over; we won.

\- But how can this be over? I did a kamikaze move to finish the job, by now I should've blown into atoms! Why am I still alive-if I'm alive?

\- I guess you should be thanking me for that, Turk; you see, after a while, I told Ocho to beam himself to the base and ran after you. I arrived there exactly when you sprinted with your bo at that thing, and, half-guessing what you were going to do, I sprinted after you myself and grabbed you in the nick of time, while activating my Instamat. Congratulations, bro; thanks to your 'reality bubble', the teleporter didn't miss its mark by a long shot.

\- But what about my mouth?

\- ? What about your mouth?

\- I wounded it when I... you know what, forget about it. - Donnie placed his tired forehead on the back of his hand, sighing. He heard Leo approaching; he put a comforting hand over his shoulder. - Look, you're tired, you're in need of rest; also, we gotta tell Miwa and the others that the System is gone – that we can go on with our lives.

-... Yeah, we should probably do that...

They kept quiet for a moment; then, Donatello noticed that Leo put the other hand on his other shoulder, and his brother's grip started to grow firmer; ever so slightly, his hands started to move down, caressing his arms on their way down.

\- Uh... Leo... What are y-

\- JOIN US... JOIN US FOREVER... - with horror, Donnie saw his brother's head lean forward over his back, to his field of vision, and slowly start to deform into an unspeakable monstrosity.

 _Oh shit._

He struggled to break free, but he was still tired from all his ordeals, and the Leo-monster started to tighten his grip on him, all the while saying: - JOIN US... WE SAVE YOU... YOU NEVER DIE...

Cartwright's journal had one final solution for a situation like this: a suicide spell. Donnie had started the incantation already, when he felt a gust of wind over his head, and, next thing he knew, the monster released his grip on him.

Donatello turned his head to see why: he saw a decapitated corpse holding loosely at him, the head rolling by its feet, with another Leonardo standing by his side, holding one of his ninjaken.

\- Donatello, may I ask what the fuck is this thing?

The whiz pushed the headless body from him and sprang up, assuming a battle stance. - Not so fast; how do I know you're the real Leo?

\- That's something I've been asking myself for the past twenty years. - The ex-leader of the turtles sat down on the grass.

-... Give me your blade.

Leo did as he was told; he turned his ninjaken blade down and offered the handle to his brother.

After securing the weapon, Donnie pointed it threateningly to the sitting turtle, and asked: - Answer me this: what happened after we went separate ways?

Leonardo turned around, so he could peek in the direction of Splinter's grave for a moment. He said, conversationally: - I killed him. I killed him, and Mikey, and Raph and Casey and Angel, all over again.

It was reasonable – I mean, the fact was horrible, but what Leo had just described sounded like something an Ancient One would do; but the whiz needed more confirmation.

\- If you're saying the truth, then you won't mind digging here. - he touched Splinter's grave with the tip of the sword.

\- No – Leonardo held his face with both hands –, no, please, don't ask me to do that; just... just poke around the soil with the sword, if you have to. We could only make him a shallow grave.

Donatello did that, and he verified that the small burrow had indeed been hollowed out. He asked more: - How did you get here, in the first place? I programmed all of the Instamats to beam us all back to the base, not here.

\- I changed the coordinates; sometimes it pays off to pay attention at your expositions. Good for you that I did, too.

Donnie was confused; he wanted to believe him, but he just couldn't see how. He felt like he would never be able to trust anybody else, ever again.

They stood like that for a few moments, in awkward silence. Then, Leo got up and stepped closer to Donnie; the whiz raised the blade, pointing it straight to his throat, but Leo just gave him an yellow smile while lowering the tip of the blade with his hand. - What happens now, Turk? We kill each other off? That would be the perfect ending to a perfect day.

\- That doesn't work for me.

\- Me, neither.

-... So, you're not a doppelganger?

Leonardo put a hand on Splinter's cane. - I swear on this grave.

Suddenly, Donatello was feeling a terrible urge to cry; he looked away, trying not to. - I gotta leave this place, Leo.

-... I understand. I'd leave, too, but there's still people in this city who could use my help rebuilding it. That may not be much, but the stuff you told me in the mining cart, it still holds.

\- It means everything, Leo. - Donatello turned to look directly at his brother's milky gaze. - It means there's still hope.

\- Bah, hope is overrated; they say it's the last thing to die, but really, the last thing to die is death itself.

His sardonic smile didn't speak much, but it told volumes.

\- Look, before you go, there's still something I owe you.

\- ?

\- You know, when I first saw you at Miwa's meeting room, I didn't know what to think of it. But now I see that Raph did get one thing right; all I had to do was simply step in and do this. - he stepped in and gave his brother a tight hug, tears flowing from his face. - Welcome home, bro.

Donatello didn't know what to say, but then again, he didn't need to: for the surprise of both brothers, Donnie's body started to disappear into thin air, as well as the body of the doppelganger; the head, which was somehow still alive, mumbled "GONE... FOREVER..." softer and softer, until it dissolved into oblivion.

Leonardo knelt down in front of Splinter's grave, staring at the empty patch of air that seconds before was his brother; his chin down, his eyes wide open, and his hands trembling, he slowly picked up the sword lying on the ground, and slowly positioned the tip of the blade in front of his stomach.

Donnie woke up, and looked around; his body was covered in sweat, but still it was clear that he was lying on his own bed, back at the lair. Could it be possible?

He didn't believe at first; he stood up, checked the alarm clock: 2:13 AM. He walked around, searching through his stuff: his science books, his ninja gear, even his Phantasm gear, everything was accounted for. He walked outside, and entered Mike's room, which was the closest to his room.

There he was. Snoring peacefully, his albino brother, still young, still alive, was there. It felt like a dream; he held the arm that the adult Mikey had lost, to see if it was real.

That woke the albino, though. Mike stared at his brother, with a blank expression. - Huh-can I help you, Donnie?

Realizing how awkward that looked, Donnie started to stutter: - I... uh... ahm... I... just... was... leaving...

He then marched off, embarrassed. Mike still recommended: - Don't let the bite beds bug ya.

His brothers noticed Donnie's strange behavior for the past days; meanwhile, when he finally convinced himself that it was all real, he figured he'd have to tell them about Cartwright and the Phantasm eventually, but this bothered him in more than one way.

The previous experience showed him that he wasn't fully prepared to handle situations that might involve his family; somehow, he had to find a substitute, someone to done the black mask in his place; he thought long and hard about this, when, finally, one day, he got it:

\- Pi*!

And so, he rushed out seeking for his old acquaintance.


End file.
